The Power of Love
by Cyberwraith9
Summary: Drakken is close to victory, and the fate of the world is on the line!  Can Kim Possible save the day without her team, or will the world finally know the true wrath of Doctor Drakken and his alliance of evil? [Completed]
1. Catching Up

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
Kim Possible is a registered trademark of Disney Inc. One day, the dark empire of The Mouse shall rule all. Until then, I'm allowed to write this fic, seeing as how I'm paid bupkiss anyhow. Make sure you don't pay me, otherwise Disney will send its goon squad. Just imagine…large, hulking brutes wearing mouse-eared hats. *shudder* Not a pretty thought.  
  
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Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
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Doctor Possible hesitated on the threshold of his daughter's room. 'Former room,' he reminded himself silently. She didn't have any use for it anymore. Those days of hearing her lilting, joyous tone from above were over forever. With a heavy heart and a trembling hand, he reached for the latch of the door to the loft that used to be his daughter's.  
  
Ascending the stairs, his weighty heart sunk further at the sight of Kimberly's empty room. The cleansing process had already begun; Much of Kim's stuff had been boxed up, waiting to move on. The room had a haunting emptiness about it, like the soul of the space itself had drifted away without the redheaded physical anchor to keep it in.  
  
"Hon?" A soft voice called from downstairs. His wife's footfalls traveled softly up the steps to their daughter's room…former room. He heard himself answer her distantly as her brilliant crop of orange-red hair led the way. "Everything okay?" she asked with concern.  
  
He looked at her, and (not for the first time) was astounded at how alike she and her daughter were. They both had the same hair, the same brilliant eyes, and that teasing half-smile that never strayed far from their lips. It only made him miss Kim more.   
  
"It's so…empty." he muttered, striding forward to Kim's old desk. There, he lifted an old family photo to examine it closer. The picture had been taken almost ten years back, when Kimmie was just a small child. Of course, there had never been anything "just" about Kim. It was a beautiful memory frozen in time, never to come again. "I never thought it would end like this."  
  
  
  
Sensing his tremendous sorrow, his wife, the other Doctor Possible of the family, placed a comforting hand on her husband's shoulder. She took the picture from him, setting it next to the photo of Kim and Ron on their first day of Middle School. "Oh honey," she sighed, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.  
  
  
  
His arms found their way around her waist, holding her close as they looked about the half-emptied, soulless space that had been their daughter's home for so long. "I just can't believe she's gone," he admitted sadly. "I never thought we'd lose our Kimmie-Cub like this."  
  
  
  
Mrs. Possible buried her face in the nape of his neck, nuzzling him and comforting him as best as she could. "I know, honey," she sighed, "I know."  
  
  
  
"Mom? Dad?"  
  
  
  
He sighed wistfully, tilting his head. "I can still hear her voice…" he whispered. His wife rolled her eyes, nudging him in the direction of the stairwell.  
  
  
  
Kim Possible climbed the steps, lugging a stack of empty boxes with her. She dumped them in the corner, mimicking her mother's eyes at her father's tearful reminiscence. "So not the drama, Dad." she scoffed with hands on hips. "I'm going off to college, not getting fitted for a pine box."  
  
  
  
Her parents separated to allow Kim into the hug, which she returned gladly. "Try to see if from our point of view, dear." Her mother planted a kiss on top of her head as they broke apart, letting Kim get back to the business of packing her entire life into cardboard cubes. "We've never had anyone in the family leave before."  
  
  
  
"Except Nana, of course." Mr. Possible sighed, "She's in a better place, now."  
  
  
  
"She's in Florida." Mrs. Possible snapped with a tinge of annoyance. "We moved her there. You talked to her yesterday."  
  
  
  
"Ah, that's right."  
  
  
  
Hoisting one of the packed boxes, Kim gave her parents a patient, dazzling smile. The truth was, she was more nervous about moving out than she let on…more than she ever would have thought. Living in the same house for eighteen years, with the same people, knowing it would always be there if she needed it. Now, she would have to learn how to live without it.  
  
  
  
She kept the smile in place, masking her inner doubts for her parents' sakes. "Besides," she added, "State U is right in Upperton. I'll only be nine miles away. And anyway, you'll still have the tweebs around."  
  
  
  
A loud crash echoed from downstairs, driving the point home and drawing a groan from Kim. Her mother smiled, twisting to the door with a quick, "Speak of the devil," quip on hand. Laughing softly, she headed downstairs, calling out to the troublesome duo as she disappeared from sight. "Jim, Tim, stop breaking your sister's things!"  
  
  
  
Alone with her father, Kim set the boxes aside and sat down on the bed with him, looking around the half-emptied room. She felt her father's arm encircle her shoulders and drawing her near. Her head rested against his shoulder as they both shared in a contented sigh.  
  
  
  
"It's going to be boring around here without you, Kimmie-Cub." he said, giving her a squeeze. "No more helicopters landing in the front yard to whisk you off on a mission to God-knows-where."  
  
  
  
"No more boys calling at all hours, either." Kim smiled up at him, kissing him on the cheek. "You won't miss that, I'm sure."  
  
  
  
He chuckled at that, ruffling her hair. "The only 'boy' I had to worry about," he remarked as he lifted a picture from her desk, "Was Ronald. And the worst he ever did was empty our fridge a few times."  
  
  
  
Kim managed a laugh before she felt her façade slipping. The sullen expression wasn't lost on her father, who put his best parenting face on. "Dad," she half-moaned, "I'm going to handle this, aren't I? It's just college…No big, right?"  
  
  
  
"Says the girl who saves the world as a hobby." Dr. Possible laughed. His daughter seemed irritated by the remark, so he switched tactics. "Kimberly," he put a finger beneath her chin, meeting her eye-to-eye, "You must never forget…Anything is possible for a Possible."  
  
  
  
Her eyes closed in a silent smile as he kissed her forehead. "Thanks, Daddy." she sighed. Spirits renewed, she rose and began packing her pictures carefully in an empty box.  
  
  
  
Dr. Possible rose to help her, heaving onto his feet with a slight grunt. He took another picture of her and Ron in hand; this one was from their high-school graduation, only three months before. "Say, where is Ronald?" he asked, handing the precious memory to Kim. "You'd think a best friend would be enlisted to help lift and tote."  
  
  
  
Kim smiled at the picture, tracing Ron's goofy grin with her finger. "His parents moved him into a place near campus while he was gone." she said. "He just got back today, I think."  
  
  
  
"That's right." her forgetful father nodded, "He spent the summer overseas, didn't he?"  
  
  
  
She nodded. "In Japan." Her smile faded, but luckily she was turned so that her father could not see. She had missed Ron desperately over the summer. It was surprising how empty her days had been without his smile, his crazy antics. She even missed Rufus' chattering from Ron's pocket, and sharing a big pile of nachos with the two of them at their favorite hang-out.  
  
  
  
The world of intrigue and crime that had somehow become a major focus in their lives had been surprisingly quiet for the past several months, which was convenient in a way; Ron hadn't called or e-mailed the entire summer, which would have worried her, except he had sent several postcards. Always, though, the cards were short, assuring her that both he and Rufus were fine, ending with a noncommittal 'Boo-yah!' or something to that extent.  
  
  
  
She kept a discouraging sigh bottled up as the real world beckoned her back. "He said he'd help me move into the dorm." she said. "We're supposed to meet him at the campus gym."  
  
  
  
"The gym?" Her father frowned, confused at the idea of Ron doing anything in a place such as that besides attempted flirtation. "What would Ronald be doing at a gym?"  
  
  
  
Kim had to admit that the idea threw her for a loop as well. "I have no idea…"  
  
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A hush fell across the padded floor as Ronald Stoppable took a cleansing breath. He was dressed in a simple white gi sashed at the waist with a belt of coal black. A small pink blob sat on is shoulder, holding another strip of cobalt cloth. A string of seemingly indecipherable chattering came from the squirming pink creature as it whispered in Ron's ear.  
  
Sanding along the edges of the Martial Arts' Room was the top ranks of State U's Upperton Campus Karate Club, lined up at Ron's request on their inaugural meeting, and totally confused. The senior student, a second degree black belt whose name Ron hadn't caught, stepped forward. "You sure about this, New Kid?" he asked.  
  
"Gimmie a sec," he called. "Rufus?" The pink rodent reached up with the black cloth, looping it around Ron's eyes and tying it off at the back of his head. Ron brushed the long locks of corn-blonde hair he had let grow over the summer out of his face, up and over the blindfold. Satisfied at his own sightlessness, he gave the other students a hearty thumbs-up. "Okay," he told them, "Ready."  
  
"Are you serious?"  
  
"C'mon!" Ron tapped his foot impatiently, his arms crossed on his chest. "Less yakkin', more attackin'!"  
  
With one last nod and a fierce cry, the advanced class members leapt forward in unison, rushing at him twelve men (and women) strong from all sides. Their pounding feet and loud, fearsome shouts filled the room.   
  
And through it all Ron stood stock-still, his hands calmly folded in front of him. Rufus shrieked and ducked into the folds of Ron's gi, squeaking something along the lines of 'gonna-die!' Ron, however, was the picture of calm. The twelve amateur warriors converged on the hapless sidekick, fists flying and feet a flurry of fury.  
  
They never knew what hit them.  
  
Ron was there one moment, and simply gone the next; Still blindfolded, he flew into the air like a feather caught in an updraft. Twisting and corkscrewing, he landed several feet away from the melee with flawless form and a perfect stance. The Karate Club crashed together before they ever realized his absence, slamming into one another in a wild orgy of inadvertent pain.  
  
Several students on the edge of the pile-up noticed him first, turned away from them with his head cocked and a wry smirk on his face. They rushed forward at once, but more cautiously than before. The three on point spread out, tripling the odds as they surrounded Ron once again while the rest of the class hung back.  
  
Punches and kicks rained in from all sides as the students tried their best to lay one on Ron Stoppable. Chops, spins and joint locks were applied liberally. And they all failed…every last one of them.  
  
For most of the blows, Ron simply wasn't to be found. His remaining four senses were alive (though taste wasn't doing much for him at the moment), guiding him through the twists and bends around their fists and feet. The rest he simply blocked, sliding the shots along his forearms. 'One cannot stop the mighty river,' he recalled his Sensei's wise, slightly confusing words with a smile, 'But it can be diverted.'  
  
Ron struck like lightning, letting the clues the other students didn't even know they broadcasted guide him; Their labored breathing escaping in ragged gasps beckoned his hands to jarring palm-heel strikes, knocking them dizzy; Their loud, stomping feet he felt through the floor pads, cluing him in to major changes in their formation; The wind whistling off their clumsy strikes assured him plenty of forewarning to block or move.  
  
But superior skill couldn't hold out against sheer numbers forever. The students swarmed about him, striking high to ensure that he couldn't pull the same corkscrew leap to escape again. Desperate, he reached forward and grabbed the senior student's gi, planting one foot into his massive chest. Ron threw all of his weight and leverage backwards, rolling across the mat and tossing the much larger, more experienced student over his head.  
  
The rest of the class scattered at the human projectile, giving Ron some breathing room. He finished the roll, landing in a crouch and leaping into a sprint for the wall, guided by his memory. Unfortunately for him, he misgauged the distance and ended up cracking into the surface head-first. A small squeal of protest escaped his gi as he bounced off, scrabbling against the wall until his hands found purchase on a thin shaft of wood.  
  
'Right where I remembered it,' he congratulated himself. "Boo-yah!" In one smooth motion, he drew the bo staff from its wall mounting, swinging it over his head and down to sweep in front of him. "I speak softly," he said in a loud voice, "But mah stick is plenty big!"  
  
The floor trembled as two dozen feet pounded in his direction. Ron spun the staff in a defensive criss-cross, his smile growing as he felt them draw near. Now that the odds were evened, the fun would really-  
  
"RON!"  
  
A familiar voice called out in panic from the distant door as a new set of footsteps ran across the pads. He reached up and tore the blindfold from his eyes just in time to see a green-and-orange blur streak across the room and crash through the students, breaking their formation.  
  
Skidding to a halt in stocking feet, Kim Possible put herself between her best friend and his attackers. She stood out like a sore thumb among the pristine white uniforms in her baggy jeans and lime green tank top, but her lotus stance fit in perfectly.  
  
"Stay back, Ron," she growled as the club regrouped, "I'll-"  
  
"Hey!" the senior student cried, jabbing a finger in Kim's direction as his fellows picked themselves up. "Stoppable brought help!" With another cry, he began charging.  
  
Kim wasn't a stranger when it came to fighting, but the combatant coming at them was nearly twice her weight, and formally trained to boot. With a room full of backup, it would end up being-  
  
Ron's bo staff shot out like a javelin before Kim could even finish the thought. The oversized toothpick struck the student's legs, tangling the appendages and slamming him to the floor in mid-charge.  
  
Ron leapt forward, putting himself between Kim and the students just as she had done for him a moment ago. "She's not part of the exercise!" he cried. "Stop! She's Switzerland, she's Switzerland!"  
  
Kim watched with a mix of confusion and amazement as the State U Karate Club backed off, grumbling and rubbing their bruises. By the looks of it, they were fine. It was their pride that had taken the real beating.  
  
The senior student stood, rubbing his shin as he picked up the discarded staff. His chagrin shone clear as he handed the weapon back to its owner. Still, begrudging though it was, his admiration was apparent. "I've never seen anything like that, Stoppable. Incredible! You can train with us any time."  
  
Kim's awe grew as Ron took the staff and shook his hand. The blonde's sleeve draped back, revealing a forearm that, previously skinny, now sported strong, corded muscle that hadn't been there at graduation. With a bit of a flourish, Ron returned the staff to its place on the wall, giving it a twirl for good measure before sliding it into the holders.  
  
"…Ron?" Kim was beginning to doubt that she had found the right person. He bore a striking resemblance to her best friend, but there were several key differences.  
  
Ron's attention refocused as the rest of the club began shuffling out. Any doubts in Kim's mind vanished as she watched his face split into a monsterous grin. "KP!" he cried, lunging forward and snagging her in a massive bear hug. She felt her ribcage creak in protest, but none of that mattered as she got caught up in the moment.   
  
It felt good to hug her best friend again. It was the best feeling, the most natural thing to be in Ron's arms. For the first time in three months, she didn't feel so lonely again. "Ron!" They separated, with Ron holding her gently by the shoulders. The big lug looked like he was about to cry, but his eyes remained dry and shining as he took a good look at her.  
  
  
  
Her curiosity burst through the barrier of her happiness, reminding her of the display she had just witnessed. "Ron, what was all that? You were…well, amazing." she admitted.  
  
  
  
He pulled back a little further, looking slightly embarrassed. "Heh…" he rubbed the back of his neck, "Just a few things I picked up at summer session in Japan."  
  
  
  
Kim could sense he was holding something back; Ron couldn't lie to her if his life depended on it. But she wasn't going to pressure him until he was read to talk. She was dying to know what happened in Japan, though. He had clearly been working out. Maybe he met a girl? "Looks like you picked up more than a little, Hong Kong Phooey." she smirked, fingering his blindfold.  
  
  
  
He flashed her the patented Ron Stoppable smile, a dazzling mix of buffoonery and charm. Taking a step back, he snapped to attention and gave her a low, formal bow. "Domo, Kimberly-kun. I-"  
  
  
  
"Kim!" A tiny squeak shot out of Ron's gi, followed by a pink blur that smashed itself onto Kim's chest.  
  
  
  
Kim laughed, missing the brief flash of annoyance that crossed Ron's features as she squeezed the tiny rodent. "Aww, I missed you too, Rufus. Have you been keeping Ron out of trouble?" Rufus nodded, chattering and nuzzling against her cheek as she held him up to face level.  
  
  
  
Ron snorted, blowing a lock of hair out of his face. "Does a guy have to be bald and bucktoothed to make time with his favorite redhead?" he asked snappishly.  
  
  
  
Kim's eyebrow quirked. "Your redhead?" she said slowly as she gave him a look. "Make time?" Ron suddenly got nervous as she sauntered over with swiveling hips, her lips pursed pensively. In the end, though, all she did was chuck him on the chin, giving him a good-natured tap on the shoulder for emphasis. "Did someone miss me while he was in Tokyo?"  
  
  
  
"Actually, it was closer to Kyoto, and YES!" Ron grinned. The smile soon fell away, however, as a new thought entered his sluggish brain. "Oh man," he said with widening eyes, "Today's your big move-in day! Don't tell me I missed your dad's tearful speech about his little girl growing up."  
  
  
  
"'Fraid so." She looped an arm around his waist, handing Rufus back to Ron as she led him out of the padded room. "But we saved a nice big box with your name on it."  
  
  
  
"Aww, that's sweet."  
  
  
  
She shook her head. "No, I mean, it's a box full of all the stuff you keep leaving over at our house. There was a lot of it…"  
  
  
  
"Oh." he blushed a bit, but covered as he hooked an arm around her shoulder to match hers around his waist. "KP," he beamed, "I have a feeling that our best days are just over the horizon."  
  
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"Our best days are just over the horizon, Shego."  
  
  
  
Shego looked up from her file and nails, squinting in the dim light of their latest lair. Deep within the shadows of his lab, lingering among countless beakers of varying color and size, outlined in pure black so that only his wild, white eyes pierced the veil, stood the mad genius known to the world only as Doctor Drakken.  
  
  
  
…  
  
  
  
Well, he was mad, at any rate.  
  
  
  
"So," Shego quipped as she blew on her nails, "I guess that BO Fertilizer project has paid off…finally." she added quietly with a roll of her eyes.  
  
  
  
Drakken stepped forward into one of the room's scant spotlights. He clutched a small vial of greenish liquid in his tiny fingers. His face was twisted with confusion stacked upon its usual bitterness. "Fertilizer?" he bellowed, already in full-rant mode, "Fertilizer?! Why on Earth would I…Wait." He raised an arm, sniffing tenderly at his blue jacket. "I don't smell, do I?"  
  
  
  
"Uh, Dr. D? The goop?"  
  
  
  
He yanked his face from his pit, scowling deeply at her. "Patience, Shego!" he snapped. "I was getting to that."  
  
  
  
"Sorry." Her eyes rolled again as she put the file away, chasing the last of the filings from her green and black jumpsuit. "I guess I'm a little anxious, seeing as how we haven't done anything nefarious for the past four months after Kim Possible nixed your evil…super taffy…nonsense." she trailed off vaguely, waving her hand.  
  
  
  
Drakken's eye bulged at the slight. "My Turbo-Taffy was NOT nonsense!" he cried, clutching the emerald beaker to his bosom. "Mistakes were made, I'll be the first to admit to that." Raising his precious beaker triumphantly, his twisted face split into a malignant grin. "But this, dear Shego," he told her, "Is our redemption. This is the future!"  
  
"Uh-huh…" She eyed the greenish liquid skeptically. "What is it?"  
  
  
  
"I told you already," he huffed, "It's a bio-terminator."  
  
  
  
"Ye-ah." her face ticked with irritation. "Do I need to remind you which one of us is the scientist again?"  
  
  
  
"Just watch." He ignored her obnoxious sigh, leading her over to a table in the lab beneath another ominous villain-style spotlight. There, on the otherwise empty tabletop, was a single rose planted in a simple brown pot. "Behold!" he gestured, revealing the flower.  
  
  
  
"Huh. Pretty."  
  
  
  
"Thank you, I grew it myself." He pulled the stopper from his mysterious beaker. "Now observe."  
  
  
  
Drakken poured a small amount of the green sludge into the pot. Even Shego's short attention span wasn't an issue; The effects were immediate. The rose began to shrivel and crackle, turning brown before their eyes. In mere seconds, the beautiful, prize-winning flower was reduced to a small pile of brittle ruins and dust.  
  
  
  
Drakken stood back proudly, pleased despite the loss of his rose. "Well?" he puffed.  
  
  
  
"Sooooo…We're going to destroy the world one flower at a time?" She folded her arms, far from impressed. "La-ame!"  
  
  
  
"My bio-terminator can destroy any plant or vegetation with only a minor dose." he hissed patiently between gritted teeth. "With the proper delivery system, we could destroy every farm in America's heartland, thus causing worldwide starvation and skyrocketing food prices!"  
  
  
  
"…and?"  
  
  
  
Drakken blinked. He had been on the verge of a villainous laugh when Shego's simple question had blindsided him. "And? And?! What do you mean, 'and?'" he demanded. "Isn't global malnutrition and market crashing enough for you, Shego?"  
  
  
  
Shego groaned, taking the beaker from him. "Look, destroying crops is fine and dandy," she said, balancing the beaker at the end of her fingertip, "But how does it help us with the whole 'World Conquest' angle?"  
  
  
  
"Well, I-" Drakken froze in mid-sentence, his finger poised in the midst of making a point. Rubbing his jaw, he began muttering to himself as Shego waited patiently for an answer. "Well," he said at last, "At least we caught these design flaws in the early stages, right?" A small, pathetic laugh escaped his lips.  
  
  
  
"Oi!" she slapped a hand to her face, groaning again as Drakken continued to rant.  
  
  
  
"Nevertheless, we shall continue forward with the plot!" he proclaimed, shaking his fist into the air. "And this time," his voice grew to new levels of sinister as his eyes narrowed dangerously, "Not even Kim Possible will be able to stop us!"  
  
  
  
His laughter echoed into the darkness, a mad symphony of bad omens for the innocent, unsuspecting world. 


	2. The More Things Change

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
Kim Possible is a registered trademark of Disney Inc. All characters, locations and themes are used without permission. However, profit margins for this fictional endeavor are comparable to the results of my latest date. The idea of a boneless pink pet was taken from Randy of Something Positive (www.somethingpositive.net).  
  
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Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
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Kim cringed in disgust at the sight of pure, savage bestiality set before her. Try as she might, she could not turn away or even avert her eyes. The raw ballad of primitive beauty, of awesome brutality was unnaturally compelling. It reminded Kim of a train wreck; gruesome and terrible, but somehow spellbinding.  
  
Ron looked up from his bowl of nachos. "Oh, sorry KP," he mumbled around a mouthful of oozing corn chips, "Did you want some?" His hands and face were covered in cheese, dripping down onto the reddish-brown Bueno Nacho booth table.  
  
She cringed, taking a drink from her soda to force the bile back down her throat. After a hard day of buying books for classes that started the next day, the last thing she needed to do was share a bucket of nachos that Ron's face had been in. "That's okay…Really. I'm good."  
  
Her own burrito lay before her, unopened. To make her point, she unwrapped the tube, only to find that it was wriggling on its own. Her disgust grew as she recoiled with a squawk, abandoning the burrito. The Mexican wrap burst open, devoid of any of the standard ingredients. Instead, her bare tortilla gave way to reveal a small, bucktoothed pink blob.  
  
"Aw," Ron reached over, nuzzling his buddy under the chin with a cheesy finger as Kim shuddered. "Y'know, I'm really glad those longevity treatments Wade developed for Rufus worked. I don't know what I'd do without my little chimmarito amigo."  
  
Rufus' outline blurred as he began to stretch and undulate, morphing forward onto Ron's hand with a disgusting slurp. The boy's fingers were quickly covered with a burbling pink coat of rodent.  
  
"Yearg." Kim pointed a finger down her throat as Rufus gurgled over Ron's hand. "Yeah," she snorted, "Except it turned him into an amorphous blob with no bones."  
  
"A minor side effect," Ron giggled. "Hey, that tickles!"  
  
"Ha-ha-ha-murr!" Rufus' face resurfaced on the blob, chuckling with Ron.  
  
"Oh look," a voice next to them chuckled, "Rufus is doing his Jell-O impression."  
  
Kim and Ron turned, harmonizing with pleasant surprise. "Monique!"  
  
The dark-skinned beauty grinned, lifting her tray of Tex-Mex delights. "Mind if I join you?"  
  
Kim slid out, leaning on the table as Monique took her spot. "Hop in. I think we'll be needing more food." She looked back at Ron, who was still playing around with Rufus. "Pair of nacos for the boys?"  
  
Ron instantly brightened, sliding towards her on the slick seat cover. "I got it, KP!" He was halfway out of his seat when Kim stopped him.  
  
"No big," she smiled, "This one's on me." She bounded over to the line, just in time to miss Ron's wistful sigh.  
  
He heard a snicker coming from Monique, drawing his attention away from Kim's sashaying hair. Looking back at his other fem friend, he gave her a questioning look as he pulled Rufus from his hand. "Care to share?" he asked as the naked mole blob snapped off of his fingers.  
  
"You." she chuckled, watching intently as Rufus congealed back into a rodent shape. "All this time, after three whole months away," her eyebrows waggled as she bit into her burrito. She let him stew for a second while she swallowed the enormous bite. "…and you're still crushing on your best friend."  
  
Ron made a big show out of scoffing and waving his hands in front of him like some kind of barrier. "Whoa, ease off on the Diablo sauce, Mon. It's giving you a case of heat stroke."  
  
She simply smirked at him, taking another bite.  
  
"I'm serious!" he insisted, slapping the dull booth table. He glanced back, catching Kim's eye. They traded waves before she reached the order register. "What if Kim heard you talking like that? She might-"  
  
"Agree with me?" Monique suggested playfully. "Agree with you? Finally tell you that she's been pining away for you, that she longs to hold you close on those long winter nights ahead?" She took a long slurp of her soda, watching his face go through several different stages of horror. His mouth flapped open and closed, but his voice wasn't cooperating. "Yes?" she asked, twirling a lock of her hair coyly.  
  
Defeated, Ron slumped forward. Rufus tried to comfort him, but gave up as the smell of Monique's other burrito became too alluring. "Hit the nail on the head, girlfriend."  
  
"Just call me Hammer." She smiled, then slapped Rufus' paws away from her food. "Hey! Can't touch this!" Ron let his head bounce against the table. "Hey," she softened, rubbing his arm. "You okay?"  
  
"Oh yeah," Ron's voice escaped from the nook he made with his arms. "I'm just sitting over here, eating at my favorite restaurant, pining away for the friend I've known since before I liked girls…" He groaned, looking up at Monique with large, sad eyes. "I'm peachy."  
  
"Well, who could blame you?" Monique's eyes suddenly became devilish as she directed Ron's gaze over to Kim. The teen superhero was waiting patiently for their order. "That gorgeous hair, that killer bod…She's got it goin' on almost as much as me."   
  
"Not to mention she's kind, sweet, she laughs at my jokes…some of the time." A bitter breath shot past his lips. "She'd never see anything in a guy like me. She's practically perfect!"  
  
"Who's practically perfect?"  
  
Ron and Rufus let out simultaneous yelps as Kim appeared from nowhere at their side, carrying a tray of south-of-the-border delights. She slid in next to Ron, tossing him a naco. "Here you go. And one for Blobula," she added, tossing a wrapped naco to Rufus.  
  
Waves of nervous tension poured off of Ron as he laughed uneasily, unwrapping his naco. Rufus chattered his hanks before engulfing his own treat, pouring himself over it and absorbing it via osmosis.  
  
Ron tried to ignore Kim's none-too-subtle scrutiny as he mumbled his thanks, raising his naco to his mouth. A deft hand swept the tortilla away from his teeth just before he could bite into it. "Hey!"  
  
Kim held the food away from him, dancing it about just out of his reach. "I knew it!" she grinned. "You did meet a girl, didn't you?"  
  
"Kim!" Ron cried out, lunging for the naco. "C'mon," he pleaded, "There's nothing to tell!"  
  
"What's she like?" she countered.  
  
"I'm hungry!"  
  
"Is she cute?"  
  
"There's no-"  
  
"Short? You always liked them shorter than you," she laughed, continuing to torment him.  
  
"I didn't meet a-"  
  
"Funny? Irresistible?"  
  
"KIM!"  
  
Satisfied that he had suffered enough, she handed him the naco once more. He caught it and began to devour it before she could take the food from him again. "Really, KP," he chewed loudly, lamenting around a mouthful of nachos and flour shell, "There's nothing to tell."  
  
A look of disappointment settled over Kim's joyous features. "Oh," she said sadly, "Nothing?" Even Monique seemed interested in his story, though she had an insider's perspective into parts of Ron's secrets.  
  
His chewing stopped momentarily as he reflected inward, swallowing the wad of pointy chips and cheese. He would have liked nothing more than to tell Kim and Mon about his adventures at the Ninja Academy in Japan; about how he had learned to hone the power and skill his exposure to Mystic Monkey Magic had bestowed upon him; about how he had become a skilled fighter; how he had pulled himself together, honing his clumsy, soft body into a powerful weapon…and all for Kim. It hadn't been just to impress her (he wasn't that vain), but to make sure that the next time they were on a mission, he could help protect her. He was tired of being a distraction or impedance. He desperately wanted to prove himself to her, and to himself.  
  
  
  
But, like before, his Sensei had sworn him to secrecy to preserve the sanctity of the school. So Ron decided that a half-truth would serve in place of the real story. "Well…" he admitted with a pained look, "There 'was' someone. But things didn't really go anywhere." It was mostly true: He 'had' met Yori at the academy again, but nothing had happened during the course of their training…mostly because Ron's thoughts and affections were half a globe away. "Age old story, KP," he added, "I like her, she doesn't like me…"  
  
  
  
"Sounds like just another old repeat to me."  
  
  
  
Pity (self and otherwise) made way at the table for extreme irritation as the three teens and their rodent friend turned to the cold-hearted speaker. Standing at their booth was none other than Bonnie Rockwaller, clad in designer jeans and sporting a brand new State U jacket.  
  
  
  
"Bonnie…" Kim gnashed her teeth, resisting the urge to tackle the prim Donna bodily.  
  
  
  
"Kim," Bonnie smirked. "Ron…Other friend…Rodent…" She went around the table with a curt nod for each of them, receiving sharp looks of annoyance from Monique and Rufus. Then she focused back on Kim, flipping her perfectly tousled hair over her shoulder. "Sorry you didn't get a chance to compete for the cheerleading scholarship, Kimmie." She flashed a patch on her arm to the table, a cheery piece of fabric in the shape of a pom-pom. "But don't worry," she added sweetly, "It went to good use."  
  
  
  
Ron's hand clamped down on Kim's shoulder, keeping her in the booth. It was a good thing, too. Otherwise she would have torn Bonnie apart with her bare hands. "I was busy," she growled.  
  
  
  
"Oh, right," Bonnie pretended to have forgotten. "You were off fighting evil, or whatever it is you do." Her smile grew. "How thoughtful of you."  
  
  
  
"It was Chile," Kim forced between taught lips, "There was an earthquake."  
  
  
  
"We got peppers in a thank-you basket." Ron offered cheerfully, feeling Kim strain against his grip.  
  
  
  
"Uh…yeah." Bonnie didn't care in the least. She threw Ron and his rodent a contemptuous look before tossing a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm going to go somewhere where the dork population isn't quite so high. Ciao, Kimmie!"  
  
  
  
Kim watched her saunter off. The heroine was seething so badly that Ron could have used her forehead for a naco reheat (if he hadn't already eaten his). "Oh…" Kim shuddered with barely-contained fury, "She is the most…the worst…the absolute…!"  
  
  
  
A series of musical tones interrupted Kim's fuming. Stifling the rest of her rant, she plunged a hand into her cargo pockets, yanking out a sleek blue device.  
  
  
  
"Saved by the bell," Monique exchanged amused looks with Ron as they waited for the news.  
  
  
  
Kim ignored them both, thumbing the Kimmunicator's main switch. "What's the sitch, Wade?" she asked as the small monitor flickered to life.  
  
  
  
The dark round features of their technical and information manager smiled at her from the tiny screen. "We've got a live one, Kim." Wade said cheerily enough for someone about to tear her away from quality time with her friends. "Major hit!"  
  
  
  
Ron leaned over, putting himself into the device's camera field. "Military? Commercial?" he asked.  
  
  
  
"Oh, hey Ron!" Wade waved at the other half of Team Possible in greeting. "How was Japan?"  
  
  
  
"Could we focus?" Kim interrupted, still irritated from her confrontation with Bonnie.  
  
  
  
"Sorry. Actually, it's from your dad."  
  
  
  
"At the Space Center?" She was puzzled; What could her dad need with her that he needed to contact Wade?  
  
  
  
Wade nodded. "He and a bunch of other scientists are being held hostage by-"  
  
  
  
"Let me guess," she cut him off with a smirk, "Doctor Drakken."  
  
  
  
"How'd you know?"  
  
  
  
She shrugged. "Who else would be incompetent enough to let his hostages have free access to a phone or computer?"  
  
  
  
"Too true." Ron agreed. "It's definitely his M-O."  
  
  
  
"We're on it, Wade." she was already standing up, brushing away the crumbs. "Got a ride for us?"  
  
  
  
He frowned as his fingers danced across the keyboard. "Could take a minute."  
  
  
  
Ron stood up, tilting the Kimmunicator in his direction. "No time and no need, Wade." he told the computer junkie, scooping up Rufus and putting him in his pocket. "I'll get us there."  
  
  
  
"Oh-kay…" Wade raised an eyebrow, but shrugged the weirdness off. "Good luck."  
  
  
  
Wade's odd look wasn't the only one Ron got as Kim put the Kimmunicator in her pocket. "You're going to get us there? What, on your moped?"  
  
  
  
Monique joined in the fun with her own digs. "That would almost make it worthwhile to tag along," she grinned, slurping on her soda. At Kim and Ron's surprised glances, she waved them off hurriedly. "I said almost. Almost!" She shoed them away eagerly, saying, "Go do your hero thing, your dad's in trouble!"  
  
  
  
Ron led the way outside, ignoring the rude snickering coming from Bonnie's table. He even held the door for Kim, though she smirked at his gentlemanly bow. "So," she grinned, "Did you give the old 'Ronmobile' a tune-up?"  
  
  
  
"Nope," he grinned as he slid between the parked cars of the campus' Bueno Nacho parking lot, "I gave it the ol' heave-ho, and made a trade-in to boot." Reaching the other side of the building, Ron moved to a row of motorcycle parking. "Ta-da!"  
  
  
  
Kim glanced at the bike Ron revealed. Then she blinked and rubbed her eyes, not quite believing them. "Are you kidding me?" she asked, scooting forward to run a hand along the sleek lines of a black Kawasaki number. It looked fast, and was probably even faster than it looked. With a bit of chagrin, Kim couldn't help but think about how un-Ron-like it was…almost like the essence of cool paired off with…well, with Ron.  
  
  
  
"Yup," Ron's smile threatened to split his face as Kim appreciably fondled his bike. He flipped open the rear cargo compartment, rummaging inside. "Picked up a rice burner in Japan before I left."  
  
  
  
She was impressed, but tried to hide it. "Compensating for anything?" she smirked.  
  
  
  
"Ha-ha." He tossed her a sleek black helmet with red racing stripes before taking a gold-striped one for himself. "Care to take a ride with me on a bicycle built for two, Daisy?"  
  
  
  
She noted with another smirk that he had monogrammed her initials on the back of her helmet as she slipped it on. "That's it," she grinned, flipping the visor of her helmet down over her face, "You're telling me everything."  
  
  
  
"Nothing to tell, KP," he insisted, mounting the bike. A small wave of excitement rushed through him when her arms wrapped around his waist as she climbed on behind him. "Now, should we go save your dad?"  
  
  
  
"Let's turn down the drama and amp up the trauma." she said over her shoulder, pointing him forward as Ron revved the motor. Together, they sped off in a cloud of dust, rushing to save the day.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Let me tell you something, little missy," Doctor Possible's face pressed up against the plate glass, "You aren't going to get away with this!"  
  
Shego sneered at him from the other side of the office door. "Yeah, why don't you file that away?" she quipped as she broke the doorknob off, trapping him and the other scientists in the tiny room. Blowing a kiss, she stalked over to the computer terminal Doctor Drakken was hunched over. "Dr. D, how we doing?"  
  
"Hmm…" Drakken scanned the available equipment at the Space Center. He and Shego stood suspended on an enormous platform in the main launch bay of the Center, overlooking most of that equipment on Drakken's screen. Behind them in the enormous, towering room rested a cornucopia of space-worthy vehicles, including the Center's pride and joy, an enormous booster rocket that overshadowed everything else.  
  
"So?" Shego pressed impatiently, "Can we use this titanic firecracker or not?"  
  
"I don't think so," he watched the screen scroll by. "The rocket would require extensive modification before it could be used to our purposes…"  
  
"Besides," a familiar voice interrupted their discussion, "I think people would talk, don't you?"  
  
Drakken and Shego knew who it was bursting their bubble before they even turned around. "KIM POSSIBLE!" Drakken roared, pointing a tiny finger indignantly.  
  
Kim and Ron blocked the villain's only escape route, a large set of double-doors leading off of the platform and back into the Center's main facility. Each of the teens had taken one of the doors to guard, standing with arms folded and smiling faces.  
  
"Stealing a giant rocket?" Ron laughed, elbowing his best friend. "See, now 'that's' compensating for something."  
  
The villainous duo exchanged glares, their rage growing. "Do I really need to say it?" Drakken asked. Then, with a shrug, he began to calm down; the situation could still be salvaged. "Well, just for tradition's sake, I suppose…SHEGO! GET THEM!"  
  
Shego leered, leaping forward with several hand-flips and landing in front of the teens in a dangerous pose. "Finally," she snapped over her shoulder, "Something out of your mouth that makes sense." Her eyes were venomous, locked on Kim's throat and shining with anticipation as she lunged forward.  
  
Without warning, Ron stepped between the two, forcing Shego to come to a screeching halt. The teens hadn't had time to change into their mission gear before intercepting Drakken at the Center. As such, the sniveling sidekick wearing his old long-sleeved red pullover seemed even more ridiculous in Shego's eyes.  
  
"Um, what are you doing?" Shego demanded sarcastically.  
  
Amazingly, Kim found herself agreeing with the villainess. "Yeah, Ron," she scratched her head, "What are you doing?" Even Rufus poked his head out of Ron's pocket and gave him a questioning chitter.  
  
"I figured you were getting tired of fighting Shego after all these years," Ron turned back with a wink. "Besides, this fits; sidekick against sidekick, right?"  
  
"I guess…" Kim wasn't quite convinced. She had watched Ron take on a room of kids their own age…blindfolded to boot! But this was a real fight, with the very real possibility of getting hurt.  
  
"Playtime is over, loser." Shego took a swipe at Ron, smirking as she tried to shove the sidekick aside. "Go find a jungle gym!"  
  
Ron leaned to the left, avoiding the swipe with ease.  
  
Shego blinked in surprise. She reached out to clamp onto Ron's pale neck, claws flexing anxiously. "C'mere you little bug!"  
  
His arm shot up, lazily deflecting the blow so she missed his neck entirely.  
  
Growling, Shego's hands crackled as they clenched into fists. "You," she grumbled, "Are starting to annoy me!" She swung a vicious haymaker at Ron's head so powerful it actually spun her around. By the time she was able to look again, he had completely vanished.  
  
A finger tapped her on the shoulder as Ron's voice whispered in her ear from behind. "Slick moves," he murmured cheerfully. "Wanna see mine?"  
  
Shego's growl grew into a frenzied roar as she leapt at Ron, teeth bared and snapping. Kim watched them go at it for a moment, then used Ron's interesting 'distraction' to take the initiative. A few handsprings in the right direction soon pitted her against the merciless Doctor Drakken.  
  
"All right, Drakken," Kim scowled as she landed next to the demented scientist with her hands raised and ready. "Get ready for a…" She paused, unable to get Drakken's attention. The blue buffoon's eyes were locked on Ron and Shego, dumbfounded by the sidekicks' battle. "Hello?" Kim demanded, stamping her foot.  
  
"Hmm?" he asked distractedly. It was almost as if he hadn't noticed Kim's entrance at all until that moment. "Oh, sorry. It's just so…" he gestured helplessly at the fight, searching for the right words. "Well, just look!"  
  
Hero and villain watched the ensuing fight between Ron and Shego. The villainess had ignited her Power Gloves, swiping at the blonde with glowing green death at her fingertips. But for every lethal blow she tried to land, Ron was nothing more than a shadow.  
  
"Hold still, you little dufus!" she snarled.  
  
Ron ducked his head to the side, feeling the heat from the green plasma against his cheek as her fist passed over his shoulder. "Hey," he grinned, "Remember when I couldn't beat you in a fight? Those were good times…"  
  
"RARGH! KILL YOU!" was the response as Shego took a flying leap, kicking over his head as he ducked with expert speed.  
  
Kim was held captivated by the fight. "Is this what it looks like when Shego and I fight?" she asked, watching the dancing trails of green energy chase after her best friend.  
  
"Pretty much," Drakken nodded. "Kind of cool, really."  
  
She leaned against the computer terminal as they watched Ron lead Shego across the platform, trading blows here an there as they went. "So," Kim said offhandedly, "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Looking for rockets," Drakken replied, equally as distracted. He chucked a thumb in the office's direction. "Your father and the others are locked up in there, if you were curious."  
  
"You realize that with Ron keeping Shego busy, I'm free and clear to kick your butt."  
  
"Only if you get through my henchmen first." Drakken smirked.  
  
"Henchmen?" Kim's eyebrow quirked. "What-?" A burly, black-gloved hand enclosed her shoulder, giving her pause. Turning, she saw three tall, burly, dumpy white thugs in crimson suits leaning over her with sickening grins. "Oh." was all she could think to say.  
  
Ron was left oblivious to Kim's troubles as she began battling the trio of thugs. His own plate was full with Shego trying to kill him, which, despite all appearances, wasn't nearly as easy to avoid as he made it look. There were already a few long, red welts on his arms where her Power Gloves had come too close for comfort.  
  
"You can't keep dancing forever, Blondie!" Shego barked, clawing and kicking.  
  
He ducked, sliding beneath her legs and, as an afterthought, gave her a humiliating slap on the backside. "I've always wondered," he called as she yelped and fumed, "How do you get your hands to do that glowing thing?"  
  
Shego's rage tripled as he watched in satisfaction. It was just as Sensei had said; 'The wildest tornado possesses very little direction.' He wasn't sure if that applied here, but Shego was getting sloppier the angrier Ron made her, and that was good enough.  
  
Kim, in the meantime, was proving that just because Ron had come back with some wicked bad skills didn't mean that she had let her own talents slip. The three inept lackeys were tripping over one another as Kim weaved between them, slapping them around like Stooges.  
  
Shoving the largest of the three into his friends, she dismissed the pile of henchmen onto the Center's cold steel floor. "Now, Drakken," she smirked, her breath still coming in an even tempo after the brief fight. "Why don't we finish what we started?"  
  
Drakken backed away from the teen heroine, a pained look crossing his features. "I'd love to stay and fight, Kim Possible," he said, twiddling a small computer data stick between his fingers, "But I had Cajun for lunch." His other hand prestidigitated a small silver orb as he said, "And Cajun always gives me GAS!"  
  
He hurled the small sphere to the ground with a sharp laugh. The ball exploded into an expanding wave of smoke that quickly cloaked the mad doctor, sweeping out faster than Kim could escape it.  
  
The smokescreen soon grew to reach Shego and Ron. The blonde saw a grin of malice flash on her pale face before she vanished behind the gray curtain. Then he was wracked with fits of coughing, unable to do anything but listen to Kim as she too hacked away the vile smoke from her own lungs. Lucky for the both of them, the screen dissipated swiftly. When it did, the teens looked about in confusion to find themselves the only remaining force on the now-empty battlefield.  
  
Ron took Rufus out of his pocket, patting his buddy on the back to help clear the smoke from his tiny lungs. "What just happened?" he asked Kim, looking around with puzzlement.  
  
With a final cough, Kim groaned, "Drakken got away. He had some kind of disk."  
  
"Downloading games off of a government computer?" Ron quipped, placing Rufus on his shoulder as he joined Kim by the console.  
  
Kim looked at him with something between amusement and annoyance. Ron always called it her 'Ron-You're-Being-An-Idiot-But-I-Tolerate-You-Anyway-But-Shut-Up-For-Your-Own-Safety' look. He claimed to be trying to build the name into some kind of acronym, but with little luck so far. "C'mon," she said, giving him a push, "Let's just go free my dad."  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Hours later, Kim led the way up the stairs of her new dorm, speaking to Wade on the Kimmunicator. Ron followed close, eyeing the grungy gray walls of Haus Hall, Kim's new home.   
  
It was a far cry from the apartment he had rented near campus from his Uncle, but it did have its advantages; For one thing, she didn't need to worry about finding a roommate by the end of the month. He couldn't afford to live alone, but being away for the summer had meant putting a roommate search on hold.   
  
  
  
Now he had just enough cash to make it through to the end of September. If only he had possessed the cahones to ask Kim to move in with him before she had applied to the dorms. 'Not in a perverted way!' he told himself quickly, 'Just…' But that was a road he didn't need to go down anymore.  
  
Squeezing past a group of lollygaggers, Kim slipped her key in the lock of a squalid-looking door. "Thanks, Wade." she said, flipping the Kimmunicator off as she kicked the door open. Together, the two teens and their micro-sized friend entered Kim's tiny single room.  
  
The Possible family had tried their best to make the room more livable. Her father had brought in a bunch of space-age appliances left over from Nasa beta-tests (Kim had yet to work up the bravery to try out her microwave, which had more controls than a seven-forty-seven's cockpit). Her mother had picked out a bright, cheery yellow bedspread, with curtains and a table cozy to match for her window and desk. Even Jim and Tim had helped, plastering her cracked, pasty walls with colorful posters. But it didn't change the fact that the room was tiny, miserable, and ugly.  
  
"So what did Wade dig up?" Ron asked as Kim replaced her tiny computer in her pocket with a sigh. "Any info? A lead on his latest digs?"  
  
"No." she grimaced. "Wade's still looking through the Center's files, but there's no real way to be sure what he took." Disgusted, she flopped down onto her bed. "This is heinous!"  
  
"Don't fret, KP," he pulled up her desk chair, straddling it backwards. "We'll get Doctor Dorkken before anything nasty happens."  
  
"No," she moaned, looking up at the cracked plaster ceiling. "I mean this place!" A puff from her lips pushed her bangs back as she sat up, scowling at the room. "Bonnie's over in athletic housing with the rest of the cheer squad, yukking it up with her full-ride scholarship, and…and…"  
  
"Hey, c'mon Kim," Ron sounded sympathetic, leaning forward. Rufus leapt from his pocket, jumping onto Kim's leg and giving her a pat. "Things aren't 'that' bad here."  
  
Kim gave her friend a reassuring smile, petting Rufus. The amorphous mole rat rippled under her touch as Ron smiled back. However, that smile disappeared as a sharp crack emanated from Ron's seat. Kim's smile similarly vanished as the dorm-provided chair crumpled beneath Ron, sending him tumbling to the ground.  
  
"You were saying?" she said flatly.  
  
"Okay," he pulled himself out of the ruins of her chair, dusting himself off. "I know it looks bleak, but think about this: You and I both know you have way more talent than Bonnie. And," he added pointedly, "I happen to remember a bunch of people from Down Under who appreciated the help with that earthquake."  
  
She gave him a funny look. "Ron, 'Down Under' is Australia."  
  
"Nu-uh," he shook his head. "I think you're confused. The earthquake was in Chile, remember? We were nowhere near Australia."  
  
A smile blossomed where her scowl had been so deeply rooted as she leaned forward, ruffling his hair. He really 'was' the same ol' Ron, no matter how much he had changed outside. "Thanks Ron. Still," she sighed, "It would have been nice…y'know?"  
  
"Actually," a deep, confident voice spoke from her partially-opened door, "I believe I can give you a better option, Ms. Possible."  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 


	3. Alliances

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
        Kim Possible is the registered trademark of The Disney Corporation. All characters, locations and original concepts are copyrighted and therefore protected from plagiaristic violations. Isn't that neat?  
  
-Review Response-  
  
melafelice: Provided that you have no further questions regarding my knowledge of Japanese language and culture, then yes…yes, I did mean to write it as-is.  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
===============================================================================  
  
        "Beaten!"  
  
        "Yes, Shego," Doctor Drakken sighed, kicking his feet up onto one of the many consoles situated in the command center of their nefarious lair. They had just returned from the successful mission, and his spirits were just high enough to ignore Shego's indignant rage…which had been going strong the entire ride home. "I heard you the first million times, there's no need to flip out or anything."  
  
        "By the Buffoon!" she shrieked. Her fists pounded into a table filled with random bits of technology she had stolen for Drakken, shattering everything into a hail of expensive metallic shards.  
  
        "Uh-huh," he nodded absently, examining his nails. Suddenly, he spotted a small white box sitting nearby on one of his keyboards. "Ooh, donuts!"  
  
        Her fists came aglow with emerald death as she crushed another table. "What part of this am I not making clear?" she growled between clenched teeth. "STOPPABLE BEAT ME!"  
  
        Drakken rolled his eyes, reaching for the box of pastries. "I'm not sure what the big deal is," he said as he pulled a bearclaw from the box. He took a big bite, talking around a mouthful of frosting. "The Sidekick and I have fought to a standstill plenty of times, and you don't hear me moaning about it."  
  
        Shego eyed the curve of his girth as he devoured the donut, spreading crumbs across his blue jacket front. "Ye-ah…" she snorted.  
  
        Swallowing the last of the treat, he sat up. "It doesn't matter anyway, Shego." he insisted, spilling crumbs across the console as he drew the crucial data stick from his jacket. "We got what we went for."  
  
        "Which was what, exactly?" she snapped testily. Drakken's flickering data screen drew her forward as he plugged the stick into an input slot. "I'm still a little fuzzy on the whole plan."  
  
        "Fear not, my dear Shego; the wheels continue to turn within my plot." Drakken smiled, tapping his temple.  
  
        "Yippee for the wheels…" she muttered.  
  
        "What we have here," he continued without hearing her jibe, "Is an inventory of every piece of government hardware capable of breaching the atmosphere. Now it's a simple matter of picking the right one, stealing it, and modifying it to our purposes."  
  
        "Oh-kay…" Shego drawled, leaning over his shoulder as the endless list of missiles and rockets scrolled across the screen. "And the second part of our plan?"  
  
        "Ehh…" he began to falter.  
  
        She groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Look, we talked about this, remember? Killing plants isn't enough, we have to be able to make it work to our advantage."  
  
        "It's still in development," Drakken shot back defensively. At her questioning glance, he quieted substantially. "I have a few ideas," he admitted, "But we don't possess the means to bring them to fruition."  
  
        "I'm sorry, what?"  
  
        "What?"  
  
        She looked puzzled. "What was that about fruit?"  
  
        Grumbling, Drakken buried his face in his claw before coming up with a snappish explanation. "Fru-i-tion." It means 'to make something work.'"  
  
        "Why didn't you just say that?" she scoffed, annoyed.  
  
        "Climb off my back, yo!" Drakken shot. "We have bigger fish to fry than your own ignorance."  
  
        "Like maybe figuring out what to do about Stoppable?" she countered. She was rewarded with another grumble from her employer.  
  
        "If you have any ideas, I'd be happy to entertain them." he half-snarled, turning his back and folding his arms in a childish manner.  
  
        Shego stepped back, watching with interest as Drakken huffed furiously. A slow smile spread across her lips as she touched a finger to them. "Actually," she cooed thoughtfully, "I 'did' just have a thought."  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
        Kim felt a rush of familiarity as the tall, muscular, dark-haired stranger waltzed into her room, carrying a small folder beneath his arm. He wore a simple blue sweater and khaki cargos, with a somber look about his handsome features that suggested either extreme confidence or supreme boredom.  
  
        "Huh." Ron tilted his head to the side, trading bemused looks with his naked mole rat. "Funny," he quipped, "The orientation guide said that 'Mysterious Stranger Offer' day was Tuesday."  
  
        "I'm far from mysterious," the young man cocked his brow at Ron's obnoxious interruption as he leaned against the wall, "And hardly a stranger, if I could be so bold."  
  
        Kim had been staring long and hard at his face from the moment he had walked through her door. As soon as he showed disdain for Ron, her brain made the connection. "Will?" she asked, extremely surprised.  
  
        He bowed at the waist with a tiny smirk. "Global Justice Special Agent William Du at your service, Ms. Possible." he rattled off. With a quick glance at her companions, he extended his greeting. "Mr. Stoppable…and company."  
  
        "Hmmf." Rufus stuck his claws on his tiny hips.  
  
        Ron's fingers snapped. "Oh yeah, I remember you!" His gaze suddenly narrowed suspiciously as he eyed Will's watch. "Keep that thing away from me, okay?" he pointed to Will's wrist.  
  
        "I assure you," Will said with mild irritation, "I am here on far more important business."  
  
        "Which is…?" Kim provided, hoping to come to the point before she lost her patience and Ron lost his civility. Will tossed her the manila folder in response. Upon closer inspection, she saw the GJ logo emblazoned on the front. "Global Justice Recruitment Initiative Program." she read from the cover. "What is-?"  
  
        "Consider it a scholarship." Will offered helpfully. "Global Justice wants you lock, stock and barrel, Ms. Possible. We want you working for us."  
  
        "What?" Kim was beyond floored. She had collaborated with GJ on plenty of cases, helping them when needed and accepting help in return. But Kim and Ron had always been independents, and GJ had never showed an interest in their joining the organization before. "Why? I mean, why now?"  
  
        "Actually," he admitted, "It was my suggestion. Since our meeting I've been following your exploits with great enthusiasm." He walked over, flipping through various pages of the folder for Kim to see. "You would be housed in GJ facilities near campus, living in a one-room flat with kitchenette, laundry service, training facilities, etc." With a flip of the page, he continued to illuminate, "Private tutors will be on-hand to assist with your academic needs. Rides will no longer be an issue, as GJ transportation will be at your beck and call, both within and outside of the confines of any and all missions."  
  
        "You like big words, don't you?" Ron scratched his head, trying his best to keep up with Will's confusing explanation.  
  
        Kim blinked silently at it all, overwhelmed at the magnitude of the offer. Global Justice was willing to give her everything she could ever want or need, plus a boatload more. It was a dream come true. She was speechless. She couldn't believe it!  
  
        Luckily, Ron knew just what to say. "Boo-yah!" he pumped his fists in the air, trading high-fives with Rufus. "We're gonna be secret agents."  
  
        "Not quite."  
  
        Ron, Rufus and Kim all turned in unison. "Beg pardon?" Ron asked.  
  
        "Huh?" Rufus added.  
  
        Will shut the folder on Kim's lap, indicating the name on the folder. He underscored each letter with his finger, looking pointedly at Ron. "This offer applies exclusively to Ms. Possible. I'm afraid, Mr. Stoppable, that Global Justice simply isn't interested in you." A look in Will's eyes almost betrayed a possible joy as he plunged the words into Ron's chest like a dagger, silencing the blonde's joyous celebration.  
  
        "What do you mean, 'exclusively?'?" Kim asked, her shock and suspicion growing. Apparently, it 'had' been too good to be true.  
  
        "We want 'you' working for us, Ms. Possible." Will emphasized. "The catch is that you cease being an independent. Kimpossible.com goes off-line, and your 'sidekick'," he rolled the word around distastefully in his mouth, "Is, regrettably, out of a job."  
  
        Ron still hadn't said anything. He simply stood there, staring blankly at Will as if the agent was sporting antlers. With a trace of wistfulness, Kim ran her fingers over the Global Justice seal. It had been a nice dream, but… "No."  
  
        Will's eyebrows shot up. "No?"  
  
        She shook her head, standing up with the folder in hand. "No. Ron and I are a team. We're a package deal, or no deal at all."  
  
        "Pity." Will waved her off as she tried to hand the folder back. "Keep it." he said. "Doctor Director thought you might respond thusly at first. You can take as long as you like to decide."  
  
        His smug attitude struck a nerve with Kim, who was already on-edge thanks to her unsuccessful battle with Drakken and Friends. "You have my answer." she spat impatiently, tossing the file onto the ground.  
  
        He took the verbal blow in stride. With a slight bow, he ushered himself out of the room, ignoring the long raspberry Rufus hooted his way.  
  
        As soon as the door clicked shut, Kim let loose with a full-on, foot-stomping rant. "The nerve of that…that dork!" Kim fumed, crossing her arms over her green tank top. "Coming here, dictating terms like that!"  
  
        Ron simply lifted the folder from the ground, paging through it numbly. "KP," he muttered, looking at GJ's incredible offer.  
  
        Ron's soft whisper snapped Kim out of her self-righteous anger. She softened immediately, walking up behind him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Oh Ron," she sighed. As bad as she felt, she could only imagine how Will's singular offer had affected her best friend. The agent had flat-out told Ron he was useless in the fight against evil. That had to be a blow to the boy's ego. "I'm really sorry," she started.  
  
        "That was really cool," he muttered back, unable to look at her. "What you did back there…"  
  
        "Listen," she squeezed his shoulder, walking around to face him. He put up no fight as she took the folder from his hands. "Don't let anything Will said get you down, Ron."  
  
        With a sigh, Ron put his best front on for Kim. "No big, KP." he scoffed. "I mean, we've never needed GJ before, right?"  
  
        "Right." Kim returned the smile. She returned the folder to the ground as Rufus hopped onto Ron's shoulder. The rodent was in the middle of along string of chuckles and chattering as she led both of them out of the room. "C'mon, let's find somewhere less frumpy to hang. Classes start tomorrow, so we need to make the most of our freedom for now."  
  
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        "Shego…I'm starting to have second thoughts about this."  
  
        Drakken and Shego stood on opposing platforms suspended high above the lair's training room. They were so close to the towering ceiling that the evil genius, should he be so inclined, could reach out and tap one of the flimsy fluorescent lights without much of a stretch. Drakken wore a set of tattered red pads over his blue labcoat. He looked like a big red marshmallow, and felt equally as ridiculous. A long, padded staff sat at his feet, waiting to be picked up.  
  
        "Don't worry so much, Dr. D." Shego grinned at him from her own platform, slipping on a pair of green padding that was otherwise identical to Drakken's. "You're going to love this."  
  
        He knelt down, peering over the edge of his platform. "Is this really necessary?" he gulped, looking down at the distant conglomeration of red jumpsuits that watched them from the far-off floor. "Why don't you train one of them?" he asked, indicating the henchmen.  
  
        "There aren't words for how stupid that would be." Shego slipped a green helmet over her waves of luxurious raven hair. "Look, this is going to be great! You'll learn how to fight the idiot, I can go back to fighting Kim Possible, and the status quo will be restored." Seeing his hesitation, she added, "You said we should do more stuff together, right?"  
  
        "You're sure it's safe?" he asked meekly, putting his red helmet on.  
  
        Shego's face lost all good humor. "Pick the stick up." she said flatly. He lifted the padded staff, shaking like a leaf as his tiny talons curled around the shaft uneasily. The warrioress adopted a battle-stance, grinning again. "Ready, Doc?"  
  
        "Well, I-"  
  
        Her green staff slammed into the side of his head, knocking him from his precarious perch before he could even finish. His long, shrill scream echoed across the training room as Shego leaned against her stick, watching him fall. "Okay," she admitted to the thin air, "Maybe this was a little much to start with." She winced as a loud thud cut Drakken's screaming off.  
  
        "I can't feel my legs…" Drakken called up weakly from the circle of henchmen that had (laughingly) surrounded him.  
  
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        Kim pushed her way through a gaggle of lingering students as she walked up the steps of the Physics and Engineering building, clutching her book bag strap with one hand while edging past people with the other.  
  
        Waking up for an eight o'clock lecture had been tougher than she had expected; the dorms were noisier than her cozy loft in Middleton, making it difficult to get to sleep. She had rushed out with no breakfast and no shower, leaving her feeling hungry and grungy. An old baseball cap covered her unwashed hair, which hung in a limp ponytail out the back.  
  
        The large, looming science building was part of a massive block of buildings, all enormous to the tiny teen titan as she ascended the dull gray steps. All of the buildings looked old enough to have been there for her father's undergraduate work. Some were chipping away, while others had large patches of ivy creeping up the side. All in all, it gave the university a stately, authentic image.  
  
        But Kim didn't have time to take any of that in on the clouded, cold September morning. Rolling up her sweater sleeves, she entered the building, hoping that she wasn't late for her first lecture. Thank God it was with Ron. With so many unfamiliar faces surrounding her, she felt a little intimidated; after all, in high school she had been top dog. Now she was just another freshman.  
  
        Lucky for her, the lecture hall was right inside the doors. She pushed on through the second set of double doors and into the lecture hall. Then she froze.  
  
        For an instant, Kim wondered if she had accidentally wandered into a theater by mistake. The hall was larger than her old auditorium, and nearly filled to capacity with teeming masses of youngsters. The front of the room, past the rows upon rows of stadium seating, was monopolized by a gigantic screen, replacing the traditional chalkboard. Smaller screens lined the sides of the room, angled so that the students could see them with ease.  
  
        "Kim!" A red-sleeved arm shot out of the sea of faces, flagging her down. With a grin, Kim trotted down the stairs and slid between the rows to join her best friend, who had dutifully saved her a seat.  
  
        She gave him a grateful smile as she slung her backpack down by her feet, folding the seat down. "Thanks, Ron." she said, pulling out a pen and notebook for the class.  
  
        "No prob. Hey," he squinted, taking a closer look. "You look like crap."  
  
        "Thanks, Ron." she said again, this time with sarcasm and a punch on the arm. "You look rested."  
  
        It was true. For the first (and hopefully last) time in their friendship, Ron was more well-groomed than she. "Yeah," he shrugged, "My uncle runs a quiet ship. Oh," he brightened, "I have two surprises for you."  
  
        Depressed at the sight of Ron readier for class than her, Kim couldn't help but slump down in her seat. "Please tell me it's mouthwash and deodorant." she sighed.  
  
        "Not quite." a voice behind her snickered.  
  
        "Though you could totally use both." A mirror voice added from behind Ron's seat.  
  
        With growing horror, Kim turned in her chair, coming face-to-face with a pair of identical grins. "Jim? Tim?" she gasped, recoiling at the sight of her younger brothers sitting behind her. "What are you two doing here?"  
  
        "Taking class." Tim shrugged, tucking a pencil behind his ear.  
  
        "Duh." Jim added smugly, doing the same.  
  
        "But you're supposed to be starting your freshman year in high school!" Kim exclaimed loudly, garnering several strange looks from the other students. "This is college Physics!"  
  
        "But we went to high school," Jim insisted.  
  
        "All last week," Tim added.  
  
        "And we tested out of all the math and science."  
  
        Tim shrugged, picking up the thread. "So they're sending us here. We're getting high school credit for these classes."  
  
        "Plus," Jim said gleefully, "Once we're graduated, we can keep the credits if we go here for college!" He turned to his brother, raising a fist. "Hicka bicka boo?"  
  
        "Hoo sha." Tim agreed, tapping Jim's fist as they traded smiles.  
  
        "They jumped me when I sat down," Ron explained with a similar grin. "Rufus and I didn't stand a chance."  
  
        "Nu-uh," came a tiny voice from Ron's pocket. Rufus poked his head out, looking about the lecture hall with curiosity. The room was a far cry from Middleton High, that was for sure.  
  
        "Fantastic." Kim rolled her eyes, turning back around. Between her lousy nigh and the sudden appearance of her brothers, she was reaching her limit rapidly. "Could this day get any weirder?"  
  
        Seconds later, Kim was sorry she had said anything as a painfully familiar voice filtered through the hall's central sound system. "Greetings, students, and welcome to Physics Thirteen Oh One."  
  
        Ron leaned over to Kim as the lecture hall buzzed with the confused voices of students. "Did you leave the Kimmunicator on or something?" She shook her head, which caused his frown to deepen. "Then why do I hear-?"  
  
        "There were no available professors for this lecture, and I needed some extra cash, so I'll be your lecturer for the semester." The enormous screens began to flicker with hissing static as the voice continued, "I have kind of an issue with privacy, so the lecture will be conducted via my web-cam. You can call me-"  
  
        "Wade." Kim watched as the image on the screens resolved themselves into the interior of Wade's reclusive lab. As usual, the teen was surrounded with monitors and keyboards, and had a soft drink close at hand. Puberty had struck the young super genius some time ago, bringing with it a waver in his voice and minor break-outs that were easier to see on wide screen HDTV.  
  
        "Now that the introductions are over, let's get down to basics, shall we?" he said in a chipper tone. His image was immediately replaced with a series of pictures and video streams that illuminated the lesson as he spoke. "It all started with a brilliant man named Isaac Newton and an apple orchard…"  
  
        As Wade lectured on, Ron leaned in again. "At least we can ask for personalized tutoring." he whispered. Kim just groaned, sinking down further into her seat. As far as she was concerned, the day couldn't end soon enough.  
  
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        Drakken clutched the laser pistol in his hand uncertainly, squinting at the distant target that sat at the far end of the shooting range. The wall behind the circular target was blackened and crumbling, but the target itself was still untouched.  
  
        A deft hand swept the pistol from his grip. "You know," Shego sighed as she pulled a long, thin rectangle from the butt of the gun, "I realize that you're new at this, but statistically, you should have at least 'hit' the target after six energy clips."  
  
        With a frustrated growl, Drakken barked at Shego, "It isn't as if I'm not trying, Shego! Besides," he sniveled, "That gun seems to be…misaligned, or something." He folded his arms in a pout.  
  
        "Really?" She seemed skeptical as she slammed a fresh energy cell into the weapon. Leveling the pistol at the target, she said, "Let's see…"  
  
        Zap. Zap. Zap.  
  
        Three bullseyes.  
  
        She smirked, tossing the pistol to him. "Seems fine to me." she gloated.  
  
        Shaking with rage, Drakken fumbled as he caught the pistol. "Bah! The problem isn't the pistol," he insisted with a huff, "It's this puny power setting you've set it to." He cranked the power knob on the weapon to maximum.  
  
        "Hold on a sec," Shego cautioned, "You can't-"  
  
        Drakken ignored her warning, leveling the pistol at the target. "Suck photons, my inanimate cyclopean foe!" he cried, squeezing the trigger. Instead of disgorging a beam of red death, the weapon began to quake and smoke in his hands. Turning the device around, he foolishly peered into the barrel. "Why isn't he sucking photons?" Drakken demanded as the weapon continued to whine at a steadily-increasing pitch.  
  
        Shego leapt forward with a yelp. "It's gonna overload!" she screamed, grabbing the weapon from him. With a mighty heave, she tossed the offending pistol as far as she could down the shooting gallery. Then she tackled Drakken, tumbling to the ground in a heap atop him.  
  
        This pistol exploded in a hail of shrapnel and a ball of expanding energy, obliterating the target and much of the surrounding landscape. By the time Shego and Drakken were standing again, all that was left of the pistol and the target was a smoldering crater and a gaping hole in the wall. One of Drakken's henchmen peered through the hole curiously from the other side, waving at his employers.  
  
        Drakken laughed nervously, placing his hands behind his neck as Shego silently fumed. "Well," he shrugged, "At least I got the target, right?"  
  
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        Kim felt her spirits lifting as Ron led the way through the tiny, friendly neighborhood. There was a short break in their class schedule after the nightmare that was Physics had ended, and Ron had promised her food back at his place. Since he lived so close to campus, and Kim hadn't eaten all day, it wasn't hard to convince her. Jim and Tim needed to get back to school for English class, but had promised to visit Ron's new apartment as soon as they could.  
  
        As they walked down the street, Kim was struck by the homey, friendly nature of the neighborhood. The buildings were all fairly small, never higher than three stories, and almost all of them were family businesses. Strangers waved at them as they strolled by, giving the pair a small smile or a tipped hat in greeting. Kim also noticed that several of the stores had Stars of David pasted in their windows.  
  
        "Ron," Kim breathed, smiling at a pair of elderly gentlemen pausing from their game of checkers to bid the teens 'good morning' as the pair passed a coffee house. "This place is amazing! But it seems awfully…"  
  
        "Jewish?" he asked playfully.  
  
        She shot him a withering glare. "I was going to say 'ethnic,' but we'll use your word, sure."  
  
        He nodded, lacing his fingers behind his head as they moved down the block. "Yeah, this whole neighborhood is mostly Jewish. Been that way since it was built back in the forties, I think. My uncle had a deli just down the street, and he runs a little apartment building here in Dreidleton, too."  
  
        "Dreidleton?" Kim wasn't sure if Ron was joking or not.  
  
        "Hey," he shrugged, "It's better'n what the other churches used to call it."  
  
        "Which was…?"  
  
        "Himeyville."  
  
        "Dreidleton it is," Kim had to stuff down a laugh as they found themselves in front of an older brick building. The place stood three floors high, and was made of well-worn sandstone. Kim decided to reserve judgment for when she was inside. "This it?"  
  
        "Yup." he grinned, "Home sweet home." He grabbed her hand and dragged her into the building, excitedly running up the stairs. Kim tromped after him when he grew too fast to hold onto her, in no mood to be hurried but smiling at his enthusiasm nonetheless. "C'mon!" he called from in front of his door.  
  
        Ron had the lock worked before she even cleared the steps. When she finally made it to the door, Kim was struck with surprise and just a tinge of jealously; Ron's place was a veritable palace compared to her own dorm room. There was a spacious living room sprawled out before her, with a tiny kitchenette off to the right. Ron had somehow secured an old, patchy futon to set in front of his television set, with an overstuffed armchair and a ridiculous green lawn chair set up on either side.  
  
        "Nice living room set," Kim joked as she toed the lawn chair.  
  
        "Flea markets are a treasure trove to the low-budget student." Ron retorted, heading immediately for the fridge. His old cooking skills jumped to the forefront as he began to rummage, asking Kim, "Feel like an omlette?"  
  
        "I would have settled for cold cereal." Kim began to make her way around the room as Ron pulled out some eggs and lunchmeat. She poked her head in one door, spying a stack of empty cardboard boxes in an equally empty room. "What's this?"  
  
        Ron's voice came from the interior of the fridge as he gathered more ingredients. "That's my future roommate's room, natch. Just need to find the roommate now."  
  
        Kim looked at the cozy room with a tiny sigh, imagining the room filled with her own belongings. It was a pretty picture, that was for sure. Part of her wished she had asked Ron for the room before signing that stupid dorm contract. But she knew that living with Ron would have been too weird…at least, that was what the more traditional part of her thought. After all, boys and girls can't be roommates, can they? She doubted her father would approve. "Nobody yet, huh?" she said aloud.  
  
        "Not yet." he pulled back from the icebox, balancing a set of eggs and various ingredients. "A little help, buddy?" Rufus leapt out, snagging the package of lunchmeat with his teeth as his tail stretched unnaturally to wrap around a bell pepper.  
  
        The teen heroine continued her inspection with his tiny bathroom, and caught sight of herself in the mirror. "Ugh. Mind if I use your shower?"  
  
        "Towels are in the closet." Ron replied, flipping the cupboard open and pulling a frying pan out.  
  
        "Thanks." Kim retrieved a towel and made a beeline for the bathroom, not needing to be told twice.  
  
        Ron smiled as he began juggling the eggs in one hand, slapping a pat of butter into the pan with the other. The sound of running water pattered from the bathroom as he began whipping up breakfast for two. Rufus pulled the meat out and began slicing it into squares as Ron produced a cutting board and knife, doing the same with the pepper.  
  
        Listening to Kim humming in the shower, it was easy to pretend that she was actually living there. It would have been perfect, living with his best friend their first time out into the real world. Ron felt so bad for her, living in that squalid hole the University called a dorm room. The pictures Will had shown them of GJ's facilities had been pretty nice, though…  
  
        His thoughts on rooms vanished as the sounds of water abruptly ceased. Minutes later, Kim slipped out of the bathroom, looking much better and far more refreshed as she ran a towel through her thick, coppery hair. Ron busied himself with the omlettes, putting the finishing touches on breakfast.  
  
        "Smells good," she said, walking over to her backpack and pulling out a brush, which she used to tame her wily locks.  
  
        "Tastes better." he replied, pulling out a pair of plates and slapping an omlette on each. He watched her apply some gloss to her lips, and swallowed hard, tamping down on a set of rising feelings as he forced a grin to his lips. "Eat up."  
  
        "Thanks." she slid up to the counter, sitting atop a stool stowed beneath. "And thanks for the shower," she added as Ron slid the plate to her.  
  
        "Hey," he shrugged, doling out a pair of forks, "At least now I can say I've had a girl naked up in my place." He cut off a piece of his omlette for Rufus, who was already drooling on the countertop in anticipation.  
  
        She shot him an annoyed glance as she contemplated beating him about the head for the comment. Every one of those thoughts vanished as she took a bite of her breakfast; the flavor exploded in her mouth, dazzling her taste buds and making her feel especially forgiving. A deeply contented sigh escaped her lips as she felt the food sliding down her throat. "This is amazing…" she moaned appreciably.  
  
        Ron grinned. Then he snapped his fingers, remembering the missing piece. He slid off of his stool and strolled over to the kitchen, pulling out a carton of orange juice. Retrieving two glasses, he set one down in front of Kim, then returned to his own food.   
  
        "You're welcome." he smirked, plunging his own plate into his omlette, only to strike empty plate. He looked down, finding his plate devoid of all but a large, stuffed pink blob that wobbled slightly with each tiny sigh it gave. Ron sighed, too, reminding himself to watch for Rufus the next time he decided to 'share' with his little buddy.  
  
        Kim, in the meantime, merely smiled at Rufus' antics. "I'll have to drop by 'Chez Ron' more often, I guess."  
  
        "Whenever you like, KP." Ron assured her. He just hoped she really would; it was more fun to cook for two than one.  
  
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        "I don't think this could get much worse…" Drakken moaned from beneath the weight bar. He and Shego were back in the training room at her instruction, much to his loud, obnoxious lamentation. Currently, the mad scientist was lying flat on his back, struggling against an unloaded bench-press bar. So far, the bar was winning by a landslide.  
  
        Shego grumbled, trying to hold her tongue. She watched Drakken push pathetically against the empty bar, feeling a deep-seated sense of disgust welling up inside of her. "Look, I know we've had some setbacks," she allowed patiently, "And I mostly blame myself."  
  
        "I mostly blame you too." Drakken grunted, still unable to lift anything. He was sweating like a pig, and it was already starting to soak through his lab coat.  
  
        "So we need to get back to 'basic' basics." she insisted. "Really pound the weights, get your physical strength up before we try anything else." She watched him struggle for a few more minutes, her previous confidence waning. "Okay…" she said unenthusiastically, "C'mon. Really pound. Lift. Jiggle it. Something…"   
  
        Drakken huffed, finally getting the bar to at least clank against its holster. "I think…I'm…getting it!" he wheezed excitedly.  
  
        She sighed, turning away so the sight could no longer sicken her. "This isn't working so well, is it?"  
  
        With a mighty heave, Drakken finally managed to clear the bar from its holster. "Look, Shego!" he cried with trembling arms, "I'm pressing the bench!" Then his arms gave away, and he managed a little squeak before the bar came crushing down onto his windpipe. "Shego…" he croaked, desperately pushing with no effect. "Shego…"  
  
        Her back was still to him as she surveyed the other weight equipment in the room. "Huh? Yeah, that's great." she said disgustedly. She began mentally running down the long list of things they were going to have to go through. The sheer number of skills Drakken had yet to learn in the art of combat was daunting, to say the least.  
  
        "She…go…" he struggled uselessly against the forty-five pounds of death at his throat.  
  
        "Yeah, yeah, feel the burn, or…whatever." she snapped, still not looking. She was starting to have serious doubts about turning Drakken into a killing machine. Thus far, it had been a lot of work and headache without much in the way of results. And if she succeeded? Shego shuddered to think what Drakken could do with those kind of abilities.  
  
        "Can't…breathe…"  
  
        "Y'know, maybe I was wrong." Shego pondered aloud. "Maybe trying to make a fighter out of you is the wrong idea…"  
  
        "Going…black…"  
  
        "Maybe what we need," she mused as she rubbed her chin, "Is someone who can already fight." As loathe as she was to bring in another independent, the situation demanded it. The sorry truth was that she couldn't fight both Kim Possible 'and' her sidekick anymore. The odds needed tipping in their favor. "What do you think Dr. D?" There was no response. "Doc? Are you even listening to me?" she asked snappishly.  
  
        Drakken, sensing the end, summoned a Herculean effort and heaved the bar off of him, tossing it aside as he gasped for breath. He sat up, his throat rasping as his bulging eyes retreated back into their sockets. "I'll…go get…my little…black book…" Drakken heaved, clutching at his throat.  
  
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        Kim was sprawled out on her bed, her legs up against the wall as she held a calc book above her face. "This doesn't make sense," she complained, trying to force the equations dancing before her eyes to come to some kind of order.  
  
        "It's not supposed to." Ron said, leaning back in her new chair with his own textbook in hand. "It's calculus."  
  
        The two teens had retired to Kim's dorm room after the first day of classes, both agreeing that they needed to get an early grasp on the menace that was Calc I before things got out of hand. Pounding music thumped against the ceiling, emanating from at least three floors away and still rattling Kim's greasy window. It was just the two of them that night; Rufus had opted to stay home from the study session. Ron silently wished he could have done the same.  
  
        With a sigh, Kim rotated to lie on her front, propping herself up on her elbows. Her head hurt from the combination of math and music, both equally unwanted in her life at the moment. "I don't get it. What's an anti-derivative?"  
  
        "I am." Ron decided, slamming his book closed. "I am very much opposed to derivatives. Do away with the whole lot of 'em." He watched with growing concern as Kim rubbed her temples.   
  
        She shot the ceiling a dirty look, wondering if walking into someone's room and destroying their stereo would be considered destruction of property or an act of heroism. It was growing more and more tempting to test the theory. "This isn't a great place to study." she decided, shutting her own book.  
  
        "Next time we'll hit my place." Ron said. Suddenly, a loud crack and a jerk in his seat jolted Ron. "Uh-oh…" he said, feeling himself falling as Kim's second chair suffered the same fate as the first one.  
  
        Kim helped him to his feet, sighing and grumbling. She knew it was supposed to be tough when you left home, but this was getting ridiculous. She tried to keep the welling homesickness inside her under control, but those handful of miles between her and her family house seemed like an expansive desert at the moment. "You okay?" she asked.  
  
        "Seriously," Ron groused, brushing splinters from his sweater, "Am I fat or something? These chairs suck." he decided, kicking one of the busted legs across the floor. Above them, the person with the stereo had decided to crank it up even louder. The bass was shaking the ceiling hard enough to knock tiny particles of flotsam loose, coating everything (including the two teens) in a fine white powder.  
  
        With a tiny moan, Kim flopped back down on her bed. She wasn't one to complain, but this was quickly becoming unbearable. "It'd be a lot easier if we had someone that knew what he was doing…" she decided. Unconsciously, her eyes fell upon the stray manila folder Will had left after his visit the day before. As much as she hated to admit it, those GJ tutors he had promised were sounding awfully tempting.  
  
        Ron finished cleaning all the loose junk off of himself with a satisfied nod. "Hey, maybe Wade's available for a private session." he suggested whimsically. "This could be our chance to meet him in…person." He caught sight of her staring at the GJ folder, and felt his heart sink.  
  
        Stray thoughts began to swim through Ron's head, thoughts he wished he could will away. Global Justice was offering Kim everything on a silver platter, and all she had to do was ditch the amateur operation in favor of something far more professional. He knew Wade wouldn't mind; this morning's lecture proved that Wade could find a million things to keep himself busy with. The only one that stood to suffer at all was Ron, and Kim had turned Will Du down on that single principle. Kim had been a good friend yesterday. Maybe it was Ron's turn today.  
  
        "KP…" he said slowly, picking up the folder. She blinked, blushing as she turned away, trying to pretend she hadn't been staring. Ron opened the folder and began paging through it again, looking at the offer. The pictures and figures before him sealed the deal. "I want you to take GJ up on their offer."         
  
        "Ron?" Kim was flabbergasted. She turned to her friend as he handed her the folder, his face beaming. "What are you saying? I meant what I said to Will; We're a package deal."  
  
        "I know. And I mean what I'm saying now." Ron insisted gently. He sat down next to her, pointing to all of the things she stood to gain. "Look, you hate living in this place." Another loud bass solo pounded down more white particles, proving Ron's point. "And with GJ equipment, your parents would only have to worry, like, a zillionth as much as they do now whenever you go out on missions."  
  
        "But Ron…" Kim felt her heart being won over, but part of her felt awful for it. "I…I couldn't save the world without you."  
  
        "Hey," he took her by the shoulders, meeting her eyes with his. "Best friends, remember? I will always, 'always' be there when you need me, no matter what." He assured her. "Take the offer, Kim. Seriously."  
  
        "You…You mean it?" she asked softly.  
  
        He nodded once more. "One hundred and twenty percent, KP."  
  
        "Oh Ron!" she felt tears welling up in her eyes, but held them back as she wrapped Ron in a gigantic hug. "Thank you. You 'are' my best friend, and I'll always be there for you too."  
  
        As Ron returned Kim's embrace, he couldn't help but be glad that she couldn't see his face right then. He didn't want her seeing the total look of despair that had settled in over his features.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
        Drakken and Shego stood on a wide, open platform, still slightly damp after its activation. A glorious blue landscape stretched on forever in every direction as the ocean lapped gently against their landing platform, which had risen from the ocean floor just moments before. Behind them, the only raised structure on the platform dripped slowly, a watertight lift that had brought them to the surface.  
  
        "You know," Drakken nodded appreciably as he witnessed a pod of breaching dolphins, "We really should have tried an underwater lair ages ago. This is working out marvelously."  
  
        "Not to mention," Shego added, "That it's tougher for anyone to find us."  
  
        "Yes, yes," he waved her off, enjoying the view. His impatience soon grew greater, however, as his eyes rose to the pristine, cloudless sky. "Where are they?" he muttered, tapping his booted foot.  
  
        Shego was silent as she scanned the sky. Suddenly she tapped Drakken on the shoulder, pointing upwards. "There. One o'clock high."  
  
        "What?" He looked at his wristwatch, tapping it to ensure it still worked. "It's ten in the morning here, Shego. What on Earth are you talking-"  
  
        Groaning, she grabbed his head and turned it to point at the tiny dot on the horizon. Soon, the speck grew into a full-sized helicopter. The aircraft sported a row of deadly missiles running the lengths of its stabilizer foils, and a pair of nasty laser cannons mounted underneath.  
  
        The villainous pair stepped back as the helicopter came in for a landing, touching down gently on the metal grating of the landing platform. The wind died down as the chopper's rotors slowly spun to a halt. A sliding door on the rear compartment slid open, revealing the occupants of the craft.  
  
        "Doctor Drakken…" an elderly, gray-haired man greeted his new hosts as the door slid aside. He spoke warmly with a thick European accent, and clutched an elaborately crafted, gilded cane.  
  
        The other passenger in the chopper hopped down, helping the elderly man out of the craft. This one was far larger than the first, possessing a perfectly-sculpted build with an equally-perfect tan, and flawless hair styled short against his scalp. The younger man gave Shego a brilliant smile as soon as he saw her, which she returned in kind.  
  
        "Señor Senior…Senior." Drakken greeted awkwardly, striding forward. The billionaire grabbed Drakken's hand with a surprisingly firm grip as the two shook. "And Junior, of course," he added dismissively, waving aside Senior's useless son.  
  
        "Ms. Shego," Junior grinned devilishly, waggling his eyebrows. "A pleasure to see you again, of course." He captured her hand as well, but opted to kiss her knuckles rather than shake.  
  
        "Aren't you sweet." Shego smiled, pulling away gently.  
  
        "Now, to business, I think." Senior followed as Drakken led the way towards the lift, frowning in thought. "Doctor Drakken, when you contacted me, you spoke of an alliance with which to defeat that miscreant heroine, Kim Possible."  
  
        "Quite right." Drakken nodded. "And believe me, Triple-S…we shall!"  
  
        "But…" Junior interrupted, much to the annoyance of his elders, "Even with the four of us working together, would such a thing be possible? Father has spoken many times of defeating the Kim Possible, but without much results." He traded looks with Shego, asking, "You as well, yes?"  
  
        "Yeah," Shego nodded bitterly, "She's wily that way."  
  
        "Junior raises an excellent point." Senior turned back to Drakken, halting as he leaned against his cane. "Do you truly believe that the four of us working together will be able to defeat her?"  
  
        Drakken stopped as well, smirking. "No." He saw the shock spreading over the faces of his guests. As if on cue, he heard the distinct sound of helicopter blades beating against the horizon. With a turn, the four of them watched as several other black dots appeared on the skyline, drawing closer to Drakken's secret lair. "Which is why I've made other arrangements," he said sinisterly, "Which I think you will all approve of."  
  
        Together, the four of them watched as new potential allies drew closer, spelling doom for a certain teenage heroine.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 


	4. Plans, Devious and Otherwise

All-Purpose Disclaimer 

Kim Possible, its characters, locations, and original concepts are all registered trademarks of Disney Inc. The use of the abovementioned is without permission and of a strictly non-profit nature for entertainment purposes only. This fic, applied with a moderate amount of American currency (ex. 2.50) will obtain its operator a cup of coffee at a local beanery. Don't that beat all?

Kim Possible

The Power of Love

by Cyberwraith9

"So, gentlemen," Drakken opened his arms wide, grinning broadly as he looked around the circular table, "Are there any questions?"

There was silence from the eight other chairs in the dark, ominous ovoid room. Sixteen large, confused eyes blinked slowly at the withering rose and strange, bubbling vial of deadly green liquid sitting in front of the blue-hued host. Nearby, Shego leaned against a wall in the shadows, her pale skin illuminated by the single light situated above the table as she filed nonchalantly at her nails.

Señor Senior Junior was the first to speak. He scratched his tilted head, gazing mournfully at the flower in its vase, now little more than dust. "I do not understand," he said after a moment. "Why have you destroyed such a beautiful blossom? You said you grew it yourself…"

His father scowled, turning to Drakken with concern. "My son raises a valid, if somewhat misguided, point. What does your 'Bio-Terminator' have to do with any of us?" The elder Senior gestured around the table to the other guests, who nodded in agreement.

It was just the opening Drakken had been waiting for. "Gentlemen," he addressed them graciously, "I have asked you here today because I have a vision of the future the likes of which the world has never seen before." He looked from person to person, giving them each a nod. "You are the best at what you do. As such, I have generously chosen to share that vision with you, and you alone."

"Monkey Fist," he greeted the lanky, hairy man directly to his left, "Your martial arts prowess is unmatched, and your simian forces are feared across the land."

"Careful, Drakken," The English nobleman's lips twisted into a sneer beneath his wild, animalistic eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, fast." His warning escaped sharp, pointed fangs, the results of years of genetic manipulation that had given him his agility, speed, strength, and opposable digits on each foot, effectively making him the missing link that nature had never intended.

With a nod, Drakken continued on to a squat, glaring man with fiery red hair and beard. The surly, unkempt man wore red and green in a plaid pattern swathed around him on kilt and clothes. A small bag of golf clubs sat behind him, resting within easy reach should something happen. "Duff Killigan," he acknowledged the rogue golfer, "Undefeated on the golf course, and a world-class munitions dealer." Killigan offered him a curt nod, but nothing vocal for the moment.

"The Knights of Roddigan." Drakken next illuminated a trio of gentlemen tightly clustered at the far end of his gathering. "Captains of the military technological development industry."

The Knights' de facto leader, a man introduced only as Long, leaned in. His hair and eyes were dark, his expression perpetually brooding. His companions possessed features similar to his own, save for their blonde and red hair flanking Long's black locks on either side. Men of few words, they had given the names as Falchion and Claymore (respectively), and nothing more.

"Roddigan Industries is interested in your plans, Doctor Drakken." Long informed him curtly. "However, we will not commit to anything until satisfied that the return will adequately compensate for the risk."

"Naturally." Next in Drakken's hit parade was an individual most out of place. He possessed thinning brown hair, and wore a plastic orange smock with colorful buttons pinned to the front. "And Mr. Lucre…A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Frugal Lucre glanced at the conglomeration of international cutthroats and miscreants, trembling slightly. "I, uh…I'm not sure why I'm here." he admitted nervously.

"In a minute." Drakken assured the Smarty Mart clerk. "And of course," he at last gave a nod to the remaining two occupants, "My friends, the Seniors."

"Please, Drakken," Senior insisted impatiently, "Get to the point."

Smiling, Drakken reached beneath the black velvet tablecloth sprawled out before them. His other hand swept aside the rose vase and oozing vial, both of which shattered dramatically on the floor with a terrific crash that got everyone's attention quickly. Before the glass had even settled, he removed a tiny model rocket from beneath the table and set it atop the soft velvet. "My friends," he gloated, "Allow me to present Drak Force Five!"

Monkey Fist eyed the tiny blue-and-black model contemptuously. "So?" he sneered, already sensing this whole endeavor to be a great waste of his time.

The scientist's smile flipped into a frown at the general disinterest around the table. "The point, my simple simian, is that, with proper modifications, the rocket we will steal can-"

"'Will' steal?" Long looked skeptical. "You haven't even secured the main component of your 'plan,' of which you've shared little with us. I must say, this does not bode well." There was a general nod of consensus about the table, which only deepened Drakken's scowl.

"Aye," Killigan nodded with a grunt. "Yer plannin' yer game oot b'fore ye have yer ball on th' tee, lad."

Drakken blinked for a moment. "I don't know what Killigan said," he admitted, "But as for the rest of you, let me assure you; This plan is foolproof!"

"Said the fool…" Shego muttered quietly from the sidelines, blowing on her nails.

"No," Drakken said firmly, "I don't have the hardware required for this endeavor. That is why I have gathered you here. You see, Drak Force Five is merely the delivery method for my Bio-Terminator, and the first part of my master plan. The second part…" he paused with a grand flourish, reaching for a hidden control beneath the table.

"Here it comes," Shego sighed.

"Is this!" With a flick of his finger, Drakken activated a hidden holo-projector. A large, dome-like image flickered into existence over the table, rotating slowly in front of the gathered forces of darkness. "I give you," Drakken huffed, "The Drakken Sub-Oceanic Hydroponics Sustenance Production Facility!"

There were more blank stares around the table as Drakken puffed noisily, his breathing the only sound to be heard. Lucre broke first, however, and said what everyone else had been thinking. "What?"

Drakken's good cheer vanished in a series of hushed grumblings as his claws scraped against the soft black table cover. "It's a farm." he growled through his teeth. "A hydroponic farm capable of accelerated food growth." He tapped the hidden control once more, and suddenly the holographic Hydro Farm was sitting on the bottom of a holographic ocean floor. "It's designed to operate at the bottom of the sea, far from prying eyes or possible attacks."

Senior seemed intrigued. He leaned forward, resting his wrinkled, bejeweled hands on his cane. "I see." he said simply. "And what is it you intend to do with these farms of yours, might I inquire?"

"You may." The smile returned to Drakken's face as he reworked the holo-controls. Suddenly the farm was replaced with a map of the Midwest, once again rotating to that each of them got a chance to view the colorful layout of America's ho-hum midsection.

"Drak Force Five…once constructed," he added with a sneer in Long's direction. The businessman seemed hardly perturbed. "-will launch from this very facility." A tiny dot bearing Drakken's gruesome likeness appeared in the corner of the map, blinking merrily across the countryside until it came to rest in the middle of Nebraska. "From there, we will strike at America's heartland, spreading my Bio-Terminator across the countryside and wiping out millions of acres of crops."

"And with the crops out of the way," Long spoke up, "You intend to corner the market on foodstuffs, using it as leverage for a hostile takeover of the US, and then the world."

"Brilliant." Falchion quipped.

Claymore raised a brow. "Quite."

Drakken seemed pleased that his most vocal opponents thus far were paying him compliment. "Exactly," he crowed, slamming a fist into his open palm.

"Then the question remains," Long interjected again, "Is what do you need with us?"

"Supplies." Drakken said, tucking one hand behind his back as he began gesturing with the other. "Resources. Labor." He shut the hologram down, settling back into his seat. "I have a vision. Without your help, that's all it will remain." Drakken went around the table to each of them, bolstering their egos; "The Seniors have the bank to finance the project. Roddigan Industries has some of the technology I require."

"What about me?" Lucre, who had been relatively quiet up until now, dared to raise his hand, albeit tentatively. "Why am I here?"

"With a project of this magnitude?" Drakken smiled at the small-time villain. "I want the best budget-man on the planet. You'll ensure that we get the most bang for the Seniors' buck."

"What of us?" Monkey Fist demanded, indicating Killigan and himself. "You've said nothing about us…much less what we would all stand to gain, assuming this asinine plan of yours worked."

"Aye, we're no' exactly scientists, are we?"

"Simple," Drakken glanced back at Shego, who returned his contemptuous look in kind. "A recent 'development' with the Kim Possible situation has caused me to reconsider the muscle on my team." He leaned over the table, looking both of them squarely. "Your job is going to be simple: Should Kim Possible interfere…" He drew a finger across his throat, letting the action speak louder than any words he could have mustered.

"And should we succeed?" Senior asked cautiously, drawing Drakken's attention back to the truly important.

"Even split." Drakken assured him. "We'll divide up the world, and go our separate ways, if that's what everyone wants."

"Hmm…" Monkey Fist exchanged glances with the man to his left. He and Killigan shared a function on the team, creating an unspoken (and rather odd) bond between the two. The gleam reflected in the mad golfer's eyes was more than enough confirmation for him. "Crushing Kim Possible 'and' ruling the world?"

"Aye," Killigan's malodeous grin split wide across yellowing teeth. "Sounds goo' to me!"

Long conversed with his comrades for a moment before answering. "Your plan meets with our approval, Drakken," he said, "Provided we may stay on to supervise Roddigan Industry's interests."

"Yes," Senior nodded, "A most ingenious plan, Doctor Drakken."

"I liked the part with the rocket ship." Junior agreed, examining the scientist's model of Drak Force Five. He caught sight of his father's ire as the rocket whooshed around in his hands in a most un-villain-like manner. "What?"

"And you, Lucre?" Drakken asked with bated breath.

"Well," the low-budget baddie considered, tapping his false goatee, "I 'do' like ruling things. Okay," he exclaimed, "I'm in!"

"Excellent!" This was the moment Drakken had been waiting for. He reached out, grabbing fistfuls of the velvet table cover. "Then together, we shall become an invincible armada of pain and torment unleashed upon this pitiful, unsuspecting world. We are…the LEGION OF VILLAINOUS EVIL!" He tore the cloth away, revealing fresh engraving on the metallic surface beneath.

The eight villains present at Drakken's invitation stared incredulously at the lettering etched into the metal table. The mad scientist waited expectantly with a smile, expecting a cheer or a congratulatory pat on the back at any moment. But that smile quickly faded at the crushing silence that met him and his lettering instead.

"What," Junior eyeballed the table skeptically, "Is this?"

"Why, our evil team signature, of course." Drakken insisted, puffing with pride. "The place I had it done at charges by the letter, and I thought something short would sound more evil, so I had it shortened to an acronym. Look!"

He pressed another of his hidden controls, calling his henchmen in with a loud buzz. Three of the hulking, dumpy brutes at his command entered sheepishly, looking miserable in their new crimson jumpsuits, which featured the new lettering in bold, black block across the front.

"Even the henchmen are excited to be part of the Legion of Villainous Evil!" Drakken insisted. "Aren't you?" A couple of mutters were their only replies, which drew a furious glare from him. Fearful, they faked further enthusiasm until he was satisfied, leaning back with a smug smirk on his twisted, scarred features. "Darn right!"

The quiet about the table dissolved into disgusted sighs and grunts as the collected rogues groaned. "Drakken, you fool," Senior rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, feeling a headache coming on.

Drakken seemed confused. "What?"

Killigan slammed his fist onto the monogram, glaring at their chief organizer. "Are ye daft, man?" he demanded. "I'm no' going into battle with 'LoVE' printed on me kilt!"

"Oh please," Monkey Fist groaned, "Let's not think about your kilt, Killigan."

Drakken blinked several times, taking another look at his brilliant moniker's shortened form. It had never occurred to him to actually 'spell' the letters out…he had always just spoken the full name aloud or in his head whenever he looked upon it. "SHEGO!"

"You bellowed?" she asked, still playing with her nails as she leaned against the far wall.

"Why didn't you WARN me?" he demanded in a whining voice, waving a hand over the Legion's unfortunate logo. "I've already replaced ALL of the henchmen's uniforms!"

"I did." she responded irritably. "Twice. But you were too busy ranting and raving about 'Legion this', and 'Drak Force that', or whatever…"

"No wonder you didn't want one of the new uniforms…" Drakken muttered crossly, folding his arms and turning away from his lippy henchwoman in a huff.

Senior stood, quieting the erupted chaos of protests with a pair of calm, raised hands. "Drakken," he said smoothly, "I suggest we adjourn to more important matters." He caught his son returning to his games with the model rocket, and snatched it from Junior's disappointed hands.

"Agreed." Long stood, prompting his comrades to follow suit. "If we are to succeed, then we still have much to do."

One by one, the rest of them rose from their seats. Drakken's embarrassed henchmen led the way at the scientist's request, leaving him alone with Shego a moment later. She sauntered over to her employer, who was still lamenting his grievous error with the unfortunate dubbing of his League. "So," she said casually, holstering her nail file, "I didn't see Amy anywhere?"

Drakken's thoughts emerged from his self-recriminations long enough to call forth the lovely visage of DNAmy, his unrequented…well, he wouldn't call it love, but it was something at least passably close to it. "She, uh…didn't return my calls." he said sheepishly.

-

"KP…I don't know how much longer I can hold it…" Ron grunted.

Kim moaned as she was shoved up against the inside of the stainless steel elevator. In such a tiny space, even Ron's slightest movement could push her over the edge. The constant, soft thrum of the lift's motor was nearly drowned out by their grunting and panting. "Come on, Ron." Kim coaxed, "Just a little longer…Almost there…"

Ron felt beads of sweat dripping down his face from the sheer exertion. "I'm…I'm gonna lose it!"

"Just a little more," Kim pleaded. "We've almost…"

"Kim!"

The doors of the elevator slid open with a tiny, polite 'ding' just in time for Ron to topple over, sending the box that he and Kim had been carrying across the shiny steel floor. He rose to his wobbly hands and knees, puffing and making a big scene. Then again, Ron never did anything halfway…

Still, she was grateful for his help. After all, he had gotten her out of that pit of a dorm room…in more ways than one. They had waited the rest of the week, until Saturday had rolled around, to move Kim in. It had been a long week, so a few classic 'Ron-Antics' weren't going to spoil her mood in the least.

Kim sighed, helping him to his feet in the gleaming metallic corridor. "Maybe we should have set it down in the elevator…" she said, praying that nothing in their box was broken. She did a double-take, marveling at the space around them as the elevator door slid closed.

On the exterior, the Global Justice building (located conveniently near campus, but in the opposite direction of Ron's apartment) seemed nothing more than an abandoned warehouse. Inside, however, was a completely different story; everything was made of stainless steel, buffed to a high gloss and lit with quiet, efficient florescent lights that lined the ceiling. The hallway stretched down for nearly thirty meters, but had only a handful of doors on either side.

"Whoa…" Ron whistled appreciatively, checking his reflection in the wall. He ran a hand over his cowlick as his visual inspection circled the tiny corridor. "It's like affordable housing meets Star Trek."

Rufus popped out of Ron's pocket, chattering excitedly. He, too, saw his flawless reflection in the metallic mirror, and began preening as the two teens retrieved their box. After a quick inspection, Kim was greatly relieved to find that nothing had been broken. When GJ offered to move her in, she jumped at the chance, but had opted to take all of her near-and-dear valuables—pictures, knick-knacks, and the like—by herself.

With another grunt, she and Ron hefted the box once more, walking down the hall. Kim balanced her half of the box in one arm and removed a small slip of paper from her pocket. "It says my room's here on the top floor." she said, putting the paper on top of the box and resuming a two-handed carry before she lost her grip. "Should be around here somewhere."

Of course, since they were hauling a heavy box, it 'had' to be the last door in the hallway. They soon came across it, thankful to find a door with the word 'Possible' printed across. Kim tapped the tiny red panel to the side, and the door whooshed upward into the ceiling. Exchanging bemused glances with her boys, she led the way into the room.

If the hallway had impressed them, the actual room left both of the teens absolutely flabbergasted. As soon as Kim turned her head, she lost her grip on the box, leaving Ron with the entire weight. "Hey!" he cried, struggling to lower the hefty package to the floor with care, "How about a little warning…next…time…" he trailed off as he too saw Kim's new home.

If Ron's room had made Kim's dorm look like a sty, then GJ's housing facilities did the same to the blonde's apartment. It was an enormous split-level affair, with soft grey carpeting that extended all the way to Kim's full, open-air kitchen. Most of the apartment was open, in fact; apparently, a global spy network concerned with security didn't think much of walls when it came to home life.

Next to the kitchen was a spacious living room, complete with leather couches and a full entertainment system, complete with a big-screen TV. Further into the apartment, on the upper level a few steps above, was a series of small, comfortable chairs that matched her living room set, arranged around a gigantic bay window that allowed the cold September sunlight to stream in. A metallic spiral staircase was set in the far corner of the room, leading up to a door that Kim could only assume led to her bedroom.

Even Rufus gaped at the enormity and grandeur of Kim's new pad. The rodent immediately leapt forward, streaking for the television remote resting on one of the leather easy chairs. In the meantime, Ron had abandoned the box at the door and was now stumbling into the room. "Now this is living." he declared, spinning in a slow circle with arms outstretched.

Kim was still speechless with joy. She walked into the kitchen…'her' kitchen, and ran a hand over the sleek black marble countertop. She could almost feel tears welling up in her eyes, but held them back somehow. It was more than she could have ever dreamed of.

Ron noticed his friend's silence, and was at her side in a flash. "KP?" he asked, coming up behind her and reaching for her shoulder. "You okay?"

She felt Ron's gentle embrace from behind, and turned to smile at him. "Mm-hmm!" was the best she could muster, her eyes shining like brilliant beacons. She knew she had Ron to thank for encouraging her to take GJ's offer, and just the sight of the room made it all worthwhile.

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway. The quiet noise drew Kim and Ron from their inspection from the room as Will Du's somber face poked in from the hallway with an inquiring look. "May I come in?"

"Absolutely!" Kim waved the agent in excitedly, missing the sour look on Ron's face. Will obediently strode in, carrying another of his infamous folders beneath his arm. His other hand was tucked away behind him. "Come to welcome me to the neighborhood?" she asked with a playful grin.

"Partly." he admitted, and withdrew his hand from behind his back. Kim gasped at the sight of a small basket, filled to the brim with fruit, chocolates and flowers. She took the gift from him, sniffing at the exotic blossoms as Will set his folder on the counter. "I wanted to see how you were settling in. Your possessions are all up in your room, and as you can see," he gestured to the rest of the place, "Global Justice has seen to all your other needs."

"So," Ron said, "Where are all the neighbors?"

"You're looking at them." Will replied coolly.

"Say hah?"

Kim had to admit, she was perplexed as well; the building was several stories from the outside, and took up the better part of a square block. Just from the elevator ride, she knew that it also extended several levels beneath the ground. "What about all the other rooms?"

"Currently," he explained, "GJ's program here in Upperton is limited to you, and me. We're hoping to expand, but until then the entire facility has only two official occupants."

Even with the training gym situated on the first floor, the computer rooms below that, and all of the other GJ work to keep her busy, Kim couldn't help but think about how lonely it would be away from the hustle and bustle of regular life. "Kinda isolated, huh?"

"Don't worry, KP," Ron threw an arm around her shoulder, waving a hand across Kim's new place. "With a pad like this, you know you'll never get rid of me and Rufus!"

"Uh-huh!" Rufus called from across the room, already surfing through Kim's eight hundred channels (and finding nothing to watch, of course).

Like a storm cloud that wouldn't leave, Will once again rained on Ron's parade. "Actually, that won't be possible."

"Say hah?" Ron asked again.

Will folded his arms, becoming even more serious than usual. "Because of the nature of our operation here, Global Justice keeps a Level Five alert status as standard operation procedure. Thus," he added, glaring at Ron, "Means no unauthorized personnel."

Kim could see the flash of anger building in Ron's eyes as he stalked towards the agent, his finger already up and pointing. "So, first I can't be in your club," Ron fumed, "And now I can't come to your clubhouse?"

She quickly interposed herself between the two, holding Ron at bay. "Cool it, Ron!" she eased him down until he was merely glaring at Will. Looking at her fellow agent, she said, "Look, there's got to be some way of getting Ron clearance to visit."

"Naturally." Will picked his folder up, handing it to Ron with a trace of humor in his eyes. "If you had let me finish," he said to the glowering teen, "All you have to do is fill out the proper forms and requisitions, and we can get you a guest pass that will allow you into the building during normal visiting hours."

Ron leafed through the folder, staring at the incomprehensible gibberish laid out before him. "So, which one is it?" he asked.

"All of them."

Ron nearly dropped the folder. "All of THIS to get a guest pass?" he exclaimed, waving the folder in Will's face.

"Don't be silly," Will assured him with a tiny smirk. He waited a beat for Ron to calm down a bit, and then added, "Those are the forms you need to fill out to requisition the proper forms and background checks for the guest pass."

His head tilted, his eyes narrowed, Ron could only glare at Will as he forced his anger back down. It wouldn't do to beat the living snot out of Kim's new partner right in front of her on her first day. "You get off on this, don't you?" he demanded instead.

Will was about to respond when his wristwatch began beeping. Frowning, he turned away from the duo for a moment, apparently reading something that scrolled by on his display. He shut the communication down, turning back to Kim. "We have to go."

"What's the sitch?" Kim asked, pushing aside the fight between Will and Ron for the moment.

"There's a situation in Siberia." Will said quickly. "A nuclear silo is apparently under attack."

Kim frowned. "Isn't that a job for their own military?"

"The primary assailant," he retorted calmly, "Was reported as having 'green glowing hands'."

"Shego." Her hands clenched into fists at the thought of a rematch with Doctor Drakken's forces after their less-than-sterling record from the week before. "I just need to change."

"Your mission suit is upstairs in your closet. I will prep the hoverjet in the vehicular bay. Ten minutes, Subbasement Level C."

"Got it." Kim watched him go, and didn't miss the pointed glance he gave Ron and Rufus. She turned to her best friend, who wore a heartbreaking look on his face. "I…"

He waved her explanation off, calling for Rufus. "You have to go." he said simply. "No big."

It looked like he was going to start crying at any moment, and she would have given anything to make him feel better about being left behind. Ultimately, though, Ron 'was' the one who had told her to do this. "Bueno Nacho when I get back?" she asked instead, with a small, humoring smile on her face.

"You know it," he said hollowly.

Kim suddenly remembered something. She reached into her pocket, digging out her trusty blue omni-device. "Here," she said, handing it to Ron, "I want you to have this."

"Your…your Kimmunicator?" he asked incredulously, taking the device from her. It rested in his hands like the holy grail of twenty-first century technology. "Are you sure?"

"You can call me, beep me…Well, you get the idea." she smiled, this time to mask her own sadness. It was just now beginning to sink in that Ron wouldn't be there with her on the mission. "If you ever need anything," she said, grasping him by the shoulders.

"I know," he nodded, patting her hand. Then he gently removed himself from her touch, shooing her away. "You'd better get going before Will somehow manages to get that stick even further up his butt and starts 'really' spazzing."

Ron watched Kim run up the spiral staircase to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. As soon as Rufus had made it across the floor, Ron scooped him up and headed out of Kim's apartment. It didn't take him long to retrace his steps, and soon he was back out onto the street, standing in front of the enormous grey warehouse that served as Kim's new home.

Whereas his face had betrayed sadness before, now it was all business as he pulled the Kimmunicator out of his pocket. He was glad Kim had given it to him; it made what he had planned that much easier. Flicking the switch, he was immediately greeted by Wade's smiling face. "'Bout time, Ron," the techie grinned.

"You know?" Ron had a hunch that, as usual, Wade was already three steps ahead of him.

Of course, he wasn't disappointed. "I have a live, hacked stream of all major GJ communications up on one of my tertiary screens," Wade chucked his thumb towards the back of his mysterious, monitor-filled room. "If they're on it, so am I."

"And now so are we." Ron quickened his pace, heading back towards Dreidleton, where his mission clothes awaited. "Are you ready?"

"Give me twenty minutes." the younger boy told him. Then he frowned, as if having second thoughts. "Ron, are you sure about this? I mean, this might not be a great idea…"

"Double sure, Wade." Ron assured him. Just because he had told Kim to take the Global Justice position didn't mean he trusted them to watch out for her the way he would. He didn't trust 'anyone' with that job, save for his other best friend in his pocket. It wouldn't be easy, but he didn't have any other choice.

Besides, just seeing the look on Will's and Kim's faces would make it all worthwhile.

-


	5. Tough LoVE

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
Kim Possible is a registered concubine of the dark emperor Walt, first son of the Disney dynasty. I have secreted her and her sidekicks away on my underground freedom railroad (not to be confused with Harriet Tubman's underground freedom railroad, which actually accomplished something socially laudable). No money was harmed during the making of this fic.  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Kim tugged uncomfortably at the collar of her GJ jumpsuit. The garment was a black, clingy affair that did wonders for her figure, but left a little to be desired in the way of comfort. Made of dull black fabric with cobalt trim, it felt too tight and very slick, so much so that she feared she would slip right out of her seat if the flight harness wasn't strapping her in. Though the suit breathed easily enough, her midsection still felt confined and stifling hot. It made her long for her old mission clothes.  
  
Will must have sensed her discomfort from his seat next to her in the hoverjet's cockpit. "Is something wrong?" he asked, looking up from his controls long enough to glance at her with concern. He hardly had to raise his voice to be heard above the whisper quiet engines of GJ's finest vehicle.  
  
"What? No, nothing." she assured him quickly, pulling her fingers from her collar. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus her thoughts on the mission ahead. A cold Siberian landscape roared below them, blurring at their near-Mach speeds. In just a few minutes, they would reach the old nuclear silo and Doctor Drakken. She couldn't afford to be distracted.  
  
And yet, it was a lack of distractions that truly bothered her.  
  
She would have given up almost anything to have her best friend sitting next to her right then. It would have made her feel a lot better about going up against Drakken to have Ron cracking wise right before the mission. 'Why does he need to steal a nuke anyway?' the Ron of her mind joked, 'You can get them off the local black market for, like, a pair of Club Banana jeans!'  
  
"What's so funny?" Will's voice pierced Kim's daydreams, pulling her back into the jet's cockpit. She blushed, realizing that she must have laughed aloud.  
  
"It's nothing." she said again, squelching a sigh.  
  
The dark-haired agent nodded, seemingly satisfied as he checked his instrumentation. "ETA is in three minutes." He unhooked his harness, ducking beneath the straps as Kim did the same. "We'll jump to save time. Hopefully, we aren't too late to intercept…" he trailed off as the control's beeping insistence beckoned him back.  
  
"Trouble?" Kim tensed, watching a new dot appear on the jet's scanners. It wasn't like Drakken to have air support, but one could never be sure what the scientist was going to pull next.  
  
It took a moment's examination before Will shook his head. "Negative," he said with a touch of relief. "Just an old cargo jet."  
  
"In the middle of nowhere?" Kim sounded dubious. "What's it doing out here?"  
  
"I don't know," he said quickly, heading for the hold in back, "But we don't have time to ask. It's probably nobody."  
  
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At the moment, that nobody was standing at the back of the enormous civilian cargo hauler, staring out at the gaping expanse of gnarled trees and snowy tundra that sprawled out beneath them. He wore olive cargo pants and a black, long-sleeved shirt, a uniform that had stuck with him for so many years he couldn't recall ever being without it. A black, visored helmet capped his messy blonde hair, keeping his chocolate brown eyes protected.  
  
Swallowing his fear, Ron turned back to face the other end of the massive interior of the plane. Aside from the tiny cockpit situated at the top of a ladder, the plane was completely empty. At the moment, her commander stood at the front of the cargo section, gripping a safety railing to make sure the rushing air didn't suck him out.  
  
"Thanks for the lift, Cap'n Roger!"  
  
Roscoe "Jolly" Roger gave Ron a salute and a smile. "It was the least I could do for you, Ron," he called out with a hand cupped to his mouth. "After all, you got me and my partner those tickets to see Billy Neilson live!"  
  
"Yeah, about that!" Ron called back, stumbling against the exhaling cargo bay so it didn't suck him out too soon, "Do those tickets cover the return trip, too?"  
  
"That depends!" Roger called back, "Do you think you can get us better seats?"  
  
Ron groaned. "I'll talk to my friend." he assured Roger, making a mental note to see if Wade could upgrade the tickets he had somehow scored in return for a ride. It was a cold, hard, bitter truth to face, but the facts were the facts; Ron was no Kim Possible. And as such, he didn't have an entire armada of favors to cash in on in return for globetrotting jaunts. Maybe after he helped Global Justice save the day, they'd at least allow him to ride along with Kim and Will on the missions.  
  
"We're over the target!" Roger called, yanking Ron back into reality. "Good luck, Kid!"  
  
Ron patted the pocket at his knee, feeling Rufus tap back in response. With one final salute to his pilot, he took a deep breath and flung himself out of the back of the plane.  
  
The air outside of Captain Roger's clunky old C-1 surplus plane had a nasty bite to it, nipping at Ron's exposed skin as he plummeted thousands of feet towards the unforgiving ground. It had been a while since he had done a jump, almost enough time for him to forget how much he truly hated them. Whatever terror he couldn't recall, however, came rushing back to him as quickly as the tundra rushed at him now.  
  
Stifling a scream, Ron willed his mouth to freeze shut (not very difficult in minus ten degree weather). He called an image of Kim into his mind, holding on to it lest he lose his nerve. 'You're doing this for her,' he reminded himself. Only a week ago, he had promised Kim that he would always be there for her. He wasn't about to cop out on that now, when things looked a little rough.  
  
The mental countdown in his mind reached zero. Closing his eyes, he reached up to his shoulder and yanked the rip cord. The parachute deployed immediately, yanking him upwards with bone-jarring force. Rufus, sensing the sudden jerk, poked his head out and looked down at a landscape that was far less dizzying.  
  
Ron cracked his eye open, pleased to find that he wasn't dead, nor was he going to die in the immediate future. "Hey, how about that?" he looked down at Rufus with a grin. "First solo drop! Not bad, huh?"  
  
His jubilation ended quickly when the tree branch caught him right in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him as he landed gracelessly at the edge of a clearing…or rather, about fifty feet above it. He could see the missile silo no more than a mile (two klicks in local terms) from his position before the parachute drifted gently over him, blacking everything out. The material spread out across the branches of his tree, forming a cute, irritating tent high above the ground.  
  
He looked down to where he presumed Rufus was. It was impossible to be sure under the white silk of his chute. "Of course," he said, "Landing is another thing entirely."  
  
"Yup." Rufus agreed readily.  
  
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Corridor after corridor greeted Kim's frustrated eyes as she let Will lead the way through the complex. They had landed the hoverjet a short distance away, not quite daring to set it down in the middle of the silo. The bitter cold still clung to her clothes inside of the chilly base, so bad that Kim could see the warmth leaving her with each breath.  
  
"How far until we actually get to the 'missiles' in this missile silo?" she asked irritably, sticking close to the walls as he did.  
  
"Not far." he tossed over his shoulder, checking a map in his tiny watch screen every so often. "Just a few more meters."  
  
"Ugh. Metrics." Kim rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to have to-"  
  
Will shushed her quickly, tilting his head. "Wait." he whispered, cupping a hand to his ear. "Do you hear something?"  
  
Waiting in perfect silence with held breath, Kim could hear something as well. There was a pounding of metal and a small, erratic cry echoing from somewhere above them. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. A quick look up revealed a small ventilation cover on the wall above them. She exchanged glances with Will, who nodded in silent agreement. Together, they waited with tensed muscles and curled fists as the sounds became louder.  
  
Just as the pounding scream grew to almost painful levels, the ventilation shaft burst open and a large, dark blob flew out, slamming into the other wall and dropping to the ground. Kim caught a flash of yellow as the blur flew by, as well as a small streak of pink.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
Ron groaned, shaking the stars from his vision as he hauled himself to his feet. He felt something wiggling on his chest and looked down, a little chagrined to see a large pink blob with an angry expression in the middle. "Heh. Sorry Rufus…" He peeled the naked mole blob from his chest, cradling his buddy as the rodent slowly regained his shape. "Hey KP. Will."  
  
Before Kim could even get a word in edgewise, Will was pushing past her and jabbing a finger in Ron's face. "What do you think you're doing here?" he demanded. "I will not allow you to participate or interfere with a GJ sanctioned mission!"  
  
"Whoa, whoa, buddy!" Ron gently pushed Will's finger out of his face, keeping a smug smile on his own. "I'm just a lowly, ordinary civilian taking a vacation to beautiful, scenic Siberia." He tossed a grin over Will's shoulder at Kim, adding a wink into the mix.  
  
Kim couldn't help but grin back, though she was thankful that Will couldn't see her at the moment. Then she cleared her throat, trying to return order to the situation. "Look," she placed a hand on Will's shoulder, "He's here, and he's experienced. Let's save the arguing for later."  
  
The dangerous twitch in Will's eye made it clear that he didn't agree, but there would be a better time to argue the point. He glared at Ron and spoke with a low rumble. "I'm putting this in my mission report." he warned the civilian.  
  
Ron chuckled as Will turned his back to them and stalked down the corridor. "What're you going to do," he taunted back, "Fire me?" But when Kim nearly yanked him off of his feet, falling into step behind her new partner. "Hey!"  
  
Kim was surprised at the feeling of mild irritation that was growing inside of her at the moment. It was true, she was really glad to see Ron, and she felt better already that he was here. But part of her was annoyed that he had done this behind her back, without so much as a hint. "Two things," she said without looking at him. "One; I'm ticked at you for not talking to me about this before you decided to follow me halfway around the globe."  
  
"Hi to you too." Ron said sardonically.  
  
"And two…" she stopped for a minute, turning around so that Ron could see the beaming smile on her face as she wrapped him in a brief hug. "I'm really glad to see you."  
  
"Excuse me," Will's voice called from down the hall, "But could we please get on with this?" It was impossible to miss the exasperation in his voice.  
  
"I think that stick just got shoved up a little farther…" Ron quipped. Kim shot him another irritated glance, but he could see the ghost of a smile on her lips as they turned back to follow will deeper into the old Russian complex.  
  
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The actual rocket silo was comparable to Middleton's Space Center, at least to Kim's eyes. There was a central control platform, filled with all manner of consoles and computers (old ones, too. Who knew computers once used flywheels?). And standing proudly behind the platform was the pride of the now-defunct Soviet military; a gleaming, black-and-white checkered rocket containing a powerful nuclear warhead. Just the thought of Drakken having such power made Kim's blood run cold.  
  
And speaking of the devil…  
  
"Shego," Drakken called from one of the consoles, trying desperately to figure out what any of it meant (it was all in Russian, of course), "Have you secured the prisoners?"  
  
The pale, emerald-clad subordinate exited through one of the portals on the left, dusting off her hands. "Yeah, yeah," she said dismissively, "They're all tied up below."  
  
"Excellent," he crowed. His smile soon turned into a frown as he began pressing random buttons on the computer before him, growing more frustrated with each futile command he entered. "Why didn't I bring that Russian-to-English dictionary?" he admonished himself, slamming a fist on the console.  
  
Nearby, a trio of teens and their hairless mammalian comrade watched the activity on the platform in silence. It had been several minutes since they had found Drakken and Shego, and were still assessing the situation.  
  
"We should go now!" Will hissed insistently. He tensed, ready to spring forward, but Ron's hand snared his shoulder. He looked back at the blonde's shaking head with a scowl. "What?"  
  
"You can't just go!" Ron scoffed. "You have to wait until they give you an opening."  
  
"What?"  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "Rookie. Just watch."  
  
In the meantime, Drakken had escalated his frustration to a full-out hissy fit. "Why can't I get the locking clamps to release! You'd think that Russian wouldn't be all that difficult to read…"  
  
Kim sprang forward, rolling against the cold metal plating and coming up into a perfect fighting stance. "Maybe you should have fit some language credits in your curriculum, 'Doctor' Drakken."  
  
"KIM POSSIBLE?!" Drakken roared, leaping to his feet.  
  
Ron looked smugly at Will. "See?"  
  
"Let's just go." Will grunted, rushing forward. Ron exchanged helpless shrugs with Rufus, then scrambled to catch up, carrying his partner on his shoulder.  
  
"Give it up, Drakken." Kim said with hands on hips as Ron and Will took up positions at her side. "It's not like we're going to let you get away with a nuke."  
  
"Yeah," Ron quipped, "We're Earth-friendly heroes!"  
  
Will's words were a bit less impromptu. "Doctor Drakken," he pulled himself up, puffing his chest out, "On the authority of the Global Justice Network, you are hereby ordered to stand down and surrender yourself into custody."  
  
"You're outnumbered." Kim smirked. "Make it easy on all of us for a change, huh?"  
  
"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Drakken sneered. He talked a good game, but his slow, quiet steps took him behind Shego as he continued to taunt the heroes. "But the easy road is far less rewarding. Shego, ATTACK!"  
  
"Well duh!" Shego snarled, rushing forward. Her Power Gloves left twin scorch marks on the floor as she flipped straight for Kim, just narrowly missing the teen's face with a furious crane kick. Kim ducked beneath the blow, beginning a deadly dance that she and Shego knew all too well.  
  
Will allowed himself to watch the fight for a moment, impressed beyond words with Kim's martial prowess. Then he looked at the third wheel of the party. "We can get Drakken while Kim disarms Shego."  
  
Ron was about to answer when a small white orb streaked from one of the darkened doorways, bouncing to a halt in perfect position between the two boys. Will frowned, feeling a sense of familiarity accompany the tiny, dimpled ball. He didn't have much time to examine it, though, as Ron shoved him to one side, diving on top of the agent just in time to shield Will from harm as the ball exploded with a terrific bang.  
  
Drakken was furious at the near miss. "You blew it, Scotsman!"  
  
"Ach," a gruff voice bellowed from the darkened doorway, "It's no' my fault! The lads moved a little too quickly on tha' one." A short, squat shape emerged from the darkness, revealing Duff Killigan wielding his favorite three iron. "Jus' wait a tic, I'll get 'em."  
  
"Duff Killigan!" Ron said darkly from atop Will, glaring at their longtime nemesis. "He's teamed up with Drakken!"  
  
Will seemed less than impressed at the observation. "If you're through stating the obvious, perhaps you'd like to get off of me…"  
  
Ron looked down at the irritated agent, laughing at the uncomfortable closeness between them. "Oh. Heh…Sorry." He rolled off of Will, and the two boys rose to their feet in time to see a strange black streak moving quickly in their direction across the floor. Before Ron had even regained his balance, he was knocked over again by a large, heavy, hairy, smelly weight that somehow pinned his arms and legs all at once.  
  
"Surprise, Stoppable!" Monkey Fist snarled, leaning down into Ron's face.  
  
After an initial scream at the scent of monkey, Ron managed to regain control of his senses. "Monkey Fist too? What is this, a heist or a convention?"  
  
Will missed Ron's witty rejoinder as he dashed after Killigan, who was already lining up another shot. "Handle Fist!" he called back. "I'll take Killigan!"  
  
"Sure," Ron eyed the vicious fangs peeking from Monkey Fist's twisted lips with a cringe. "No problem." He twisted his arms and legs all at once, breaking the genetic freak's four-handed hold on his limbs as he slid out from underneath. By the time Monkey Fist was on his feet again, Ron was waiting for him with raised fists and narrowed eyes. "Care to try that one again?"  
  
"You're no match for my monkey might, Stoppable." Monkey Fist growled, flexing his fingers and toes as he squared off against the sidekick. "You may have picked up a few moves here and there, but I remain the 'true' Monkey Master!"  
  
"You can have the job," Ron told him, circling around with his foe, waiting for an opportunity, "I'm just here to kick your butt, that's all."  
  
In the meantime, Kim and Shego's fight had escalated, with Kim coming out on top. The heroine scored a kick right across Shego's ribs, knocking her back into one of the consoles. "You must be getting old," Kim taunted as she rushed in, fist raised for a running punch. "It usually takes more to tire you out!"  
  
"I had to subdue an entire base full of Russian soldiers!" Shego snapped, ducking under Kim's punch and shoving her back. Lucky for Kim, her gloves had been unlit at the moment, or her midriff (still mercilessly covered by her uniform) would have had Shego's palms burned right into her flesh. "That can take a lot out of anyone, Kimmie!"  
  
"You're right," Kim mocked, rolling back with the push and coming up in a crouch. "You should have a seat."   
  
Before Shego could regroup, Kim's leg swept out and knocked the villain square on her bottom. Shego went down in a heap of green and black, cursing as she made it back onto her hands and knees. A dark shadow fell across the floor as Kim loomed in front of her, almost daring Shego to get up.  
  
Kim was just about to lay into Shego with another quick punch/witty retort combo when another shadow fell over her in turn. She caught the gleam in Shego's eye, and rolled to the side a split second before an enormous, flaming sword came crashing down, splitting the floor where her feet had been.   
  
She came up with arms raised, finding a trio of red terrors in front of her unlike anything she had ever seen before. There, pulling his sword from the floor, was a leviathan of a man in tricked-out techno armor, medieval style. A full helm masked his face, leaving it featureless, save for a pair of glaring optic sensors set in the front. Worse still, there were two men behind him similarly equipped, complete with massive swords of fire.  
  
  
  
Trying to remain calm, Kim said, "And you are?"  
  
  
  
"Long." The man that had attacked her raised his fiery sword in a salute before taking it by the hilt with both hands to bear down on her once more. "Senior Executive Officer for Roddigan Industries. I don't believe we've met before."  
  
  
  
"Charmed, I'm sure." she said dryly as her eyes disseminated the armor. She didn't see any weaknesses apparent, at least not with the meager equipment they had brought with them. Her own aversions aside, she realized that some kind of gun would have come in really handy. "Working for Drakken?"  
  
  
  
Long swung his sword at her, catching a few strands of her hair as she ducked beneath the blade of fire. "With, actually." he replied calmly.  
  
  
  
Kim could hear shuffling feet behind her, as well as another set of flames being activated; No doubt it was Shego and her Power Gloves coming up from the rear. The sinking sensation in her stomach tripled as she watched Long's associates spread out, effectively boxing her in. "Super." Kim muttered, blowing locks of her singed hair out of her face.  
  
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It had been a long, dangerous run, but Will had finally managed to get close to Killigan without getting blown up (and not for lack of trying on the golfer's behalf). He watched Killigan drop a handful of golf balls onto the floor even as he moved in for the kill.  
  
  
  
Killigan noticed the boy's proximity, and figured out at the same time as Will that he wouldn't have enough time to get another shot off. Instead, he grabbed another club from his bag and began swinging them around. Will screeched to a halt at the doubly-armed arms dealer, switching tactics. "I warn you," Will said, steeling his hands and his nerves, "I'm an expert in over nineteen different martial arts."  
  
  
  
"I don' know about that, laddie." Killigan retorted with a mad gleam in his eye, "But I can swing a mean club!" He took a couple swipes at Will to prove his point, nearly taking the young agent's head clean off his shoulders. "Let's see if I can shave a few points off yer score, eh?" he laughed.  
  
  
  
Will ducked, diving for Killigan's own bag of wares and pulled the first two clubs he could get his hands on. "How about we not?" Will smiled, waving Duff's own putter beneath his nose before blocking another strike from his assailant.  
  
  
  
"Ach, is tha' the best y'can do?" Killigan moaned. "You should take lessons in banter from the wee lassie. At least she can carry off a proper retort!"  
  
  
  
Unfortunately for the golfer, Will was hardly interested in conversation. He caught Killigan's heel with the head of a driver, knocking the man to the floor. Before Killigan could rise, Will had the putter at his throat. "I'll say it again, for your benefit." Will said calmly. "Surrender, or-"  
  
  
  
Pain exploded at the base of his skull, and a gaggle of stars flooded his vision before he could finish arresting Killigan. He dropped to his knees, drifting into blissful unconsciousness as the golfer's maniacal laughter filled his ears.  
  
  
  
Killigan stood up and brushed himself off, grinning at the young man who stood behind Will's now-still form. Dressed in designer clothes and wielding a bent metal shaft, Señor Senior Junior returned the golfer's grin. "I did all right, yes?" he asked smugly.  
  
  
  
"Bang-up job, lad." Killigan slapped him on the shoulder. "But what did yeh use to…" he trailed off, spying the metal rod up close. "ACH! Is that me NINE IRON?"  
  
  
  
"I got it from your bag of tricks." Junior shrugged, tossing the ruined club aside. "Will that be a problem?" he asked, watching Killigan spit and fume.  
  
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Ron blocked paw after hairy paw, watching Monkey Fist's ire grow with each miss. "Wha'sa matter, Monkey Face? Don't like the new Ron?"  
  
  
  
"On the contrary," Fist snarled, trying unsuccessfully to sweep Ron's legs out from underneath him. "I didn't believe Drakken when he said you had become a 'real' threat. Now I'm rather looking forward to breaking you!"  
  
  
  
He watched the villain dive for his feet, and leapfrogged over his hairy back to avoid the shot. "Keep dreamin', bud." For Ron, this sort of exercise was nothing new to him; Sensei had provided him with plenty of challenges that were much harder than this.   
  
  
  
But something still didn't sit right. 'Sometimes the path to victory is not the one laid out before you,' the wise old man's voice rang in his ears. 'Rather, you must constantly search for the right path, and not grow complacent on one.'  
  
  
  
'Now what did he mean by that?' Ron wondered silently as he side-stepped another of Monkey Fist's bull-rushes. As he turned, he suddenly caught sight of his best friend in a full-out melee with four other baddies. 'Oh man,' he screamed mentally, 'I forgot about Kim!'  
  
  
  
"Hold on, KP!" he cried, rushing forward. He had come to about halfway between them when Junior stepped out of the woodwork, lunging in front of Ron and blocking him from his friend. "Junior?!?"  
  
  
  
"Have you not heard?" Junior grinned, kicking at Ron's head. The sidekick narrowly dodged the shot, and had to keep on the move as Monkey Fist struck at his back. "We have formed a fantastic team of villainy!"  
  
  
  
Kim heard Ron call out to her, but she was too busy to see if he needed help. She had her hands full trying to avoid the foursome out for her blood at the moment, and it was proving increasingly difficult. Every time she managed to avoid one, the other three would close in, reducing her breathing space little by little. If she didn't think of something quick, she was going to be trapped in no time.  
  
  
  
A flash of green above her warned Kim just in time to catch Shego by the wrists, holding the woman's glowing gloves just above her head. Shego, caught behind Kim and unable to break the teen's grip, pressed down as hard as she could. Gravity was on her side, and the gloves lowered towards the heroine slowly but surely.  
  
  
  
Fear grabbed hold of Kim as she saw the three Knights close in on her from the front, even as Shego's burning plasma began nipping at her scalp. "You can't win, Kimmie!" Shego taunted right in her ear, "There's too many of us, and you don't even have a weapon."  
  
  
  
"Then permit me to borrow yours!"   
  
  
  
Kim grunted, suddenly re-directing her force and weight forward as Long raised his sword to strike. Shego hadn't been expecting the sudden shift, and was powerless to stop Kim as she used Shego's Power Gloves to block Long's fiery blade. "Ow-ow-ow-hot-hot-hot-hot!" Shego screamed as she inadvertently caught hold of the sword, pitting plasma against plasma as the two forces struggled for supremacy.  
  
  
  
Spying an opportunity to gain the advantage, Kim lashed out with her foot, knocking Long's flaming sword from his hand and high into the air. She pushed forward further, slamming Shego's lit gloves into Long's armored chest. The explosive blast of green plasma knocked the large, metallic man backwards into his allies. Having finished with them, Kim brought her foot up and drove it straight back into Shego's ribcage, slamming the villainess to the floor.  
  
  
  
"Now," Kim sighed, brushing back her hair. She struck a hand out nonchalantly, not even bothering to look as the hilt of Long's sword fell into her waiting grip. "Shall we try that again?"  
  
  
  
Long grimaced beneath his helm, stepping back as he allowed Falchion and Claymore to press a new attack. However, with an equal weapon, Kim proved that she was more than a match for the expert swordsmanship of the Knights of Roddigan. The tables were quickly turned on the two businessmen-turned-warriors as she drove them back, hoping to finish them quickly before Shego recovered. With just a few swipes, she had split their swords in twain at the hilt, deactivating their devastating power and rendering them uselessly unlit.  
  
  
  
Kim watched the two warriors exchange glances, then take off running, their armored feet clanking against the cold floor as they hotfooted it down one of the darkened tunnels. She turned, raising an eyebrow at Long. The leader of the three merely bowed at the waist, then beat a hasty retreat himself.  
  
  
  
Ron caught sight of Kim's recent victory from the corner of his eye, but he had bigger problems on hand with Junior going toe-to-toe with him, and Monkey Fist working his kidneys. He managed to keep ahead of most of their blows, but the ones they did manage to land were starting to slow him down.  
  
"What is the matter, Ron Stoppable?" Junior asked smugly, catching Ron across the jaw with a painful right-cross. "Are you not impressed that I have been keeping up with my practices? Father says my villainous ways have-"  
  
A snarl of frustration escaped Ron's gritted teeth as he caught Junior's next attack, applying a crushing grip to the pompous rich boy's wrist that cut him off with a squeak. "Do you mind?" Ron asked angrily, sliding in along Junior's arm until his shoulder was pressed into the larger man's chest, "My arch foe and I are trying to have a grudge match here!" Working purely from memory and hours of practice back at Yamanouchi, his fingers danced across several points of Junior's torso, jabbing and twisting with exact pressure.  
  
Junior tore away from his grasp, startled and confused. "What are you…" He trailed off as Ron's magic suddenly took effect; Every muscle in his body froze, cramping so painfully that even the thought of movement made it hurt that much worse. With a weak cry, the villainous son toppled to the ground, frozen in an awkward position of shock.  
  
There was no time for self-congratulations as Monkey Fist smacked Ron in the back of the head with a hairy fist. "He was only slowing me down anyway," the genetic freak sneered as Ron reeled back.  
  
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Will awoke in a haze of pain and confusion, blinking away the spots that swam in his blurry vision. The world was tilted on its ear as he lay against the frigid metal deck, and with a few tries he found that he was somehow immobilized at the ankles and wrists, which were shoved painfully behind his back.  
  
"So, lad," Killigan's voice shot smugly from somewhere above him, "How about we play a little game o' Sudden Death?"  
  
Will tried to respond, but much to his surprise, a large wad of cotton cloth stuffed in his mouth prevented him from telling the golfer exactly where he should go, and where he could stick his little game (hint; the first's a biblical reference, and the second's a local of the human anatomy!). Instead, he simply rolled over and glared at the hairy lunatic, trying desperately not to get a good look up his kilt.  
  
"Wha? No' to your liking, Mr. Du?" Killigan laughed, tapping his driver next to Will's head. He pulled a small golf ball from his pocket with a digital readout on the side, depressing a small section with his thumb. A set of numbers began counting down on the tiny screen as he leaned down, setting the ball on top of the gag stuffed in Will's mouth. "Well, I hope yeh don' mind if I tee off anyhow."  
  
He swung the driver back as Will prepared to say farewell to his features, when a sharp cry of rage from Shego gave Killigan pause. Looking up from his shot, he saw that most of the forces Drakken had hauled with them had been whittled down, leaving only that depraved monkey and the pasty wench to deal with the other brats while Drakken himself agonized over the missile's controls.  
  
"If you'll excuse me, lad." he said to Will, patting his cheek with the head of his driver, "I think I'm needed elsewhere." Raising a Scottish battle cry to his lips, Killigan raised his golf club high into the air and went charging straight for the other battle.  
  
Left to his own devices, Will wasted a whole second to simply sweat nervously as he watched the numbers on the ball climb down towards zero. Immediately, he twisted his head to the side, sending the golf ball tottering in one direction, and then started rolling like mad in the other. He hadn't gotten a really clear look, but he knew just what Killigan's golf balls were capable of, and there weren't all that many numbers left for the little orb to roll through. He prayed there would be just enough as he continued flipping clumsily.  
  
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Kim ducked beneath another of Shego's plasma swipes, having long since abandoned Long's ungainly sword in favor of her own agility. The recovered sidekick's heart was in it, but her body had taken quite a blow from Kim's reverse kick, and her hands still burned. The teen heroine had hoped to put Shego down soon enough to catch up with Drakken before the scientist did anything 'really' stupid. But all of those thoughts disappeared at the first sight of a glinting steel shaft being swung at her, wielded by none other than the world's most infamous golfer.  
  
She didn't know where Will had gone to ('wasn't he supposed to handle Killigan?' she thought to herself), but she didn't particularly care at the moment. "Ron!" she cried.  
  
"Kinda busy!" Ron shouted back, struggling against Monkey Fist's iron grip that was reaching for his throat.  
  
"You need to stop Drakken!" She dodged Killigan's driver, only to walk right into Shego's foot. Even rolling with the blow, it made her ribs creak something fierce.  
  
Ron grunted, jabbing his thumb into Monkey Fist's eye. Enraged, the half-blinded ape man grabbed at his face with one hand, leaving the other clamped down on Ron's throat. "What's so dangerous about Drakken?" Ron croaked.  
  
"Nuclear *oof* Missile," she managed to retort as Killigan punched her in the small of the back.  
  
"Oh, riiiight." Ron cast his eyes sideways, catching sight of the towering rocket that could destroy the entire complex in the blink of an eye. He tugged at Monkey Fist's hand to no avail, even as the ninja assassin's freakish feet began wrapping around his ankles.  
  
"Bet you wish you had an extra set of hands, don't you?" Monkey Fist taunted, hanging off of Ron as he choked the life out of him.  
  
A tiny smirk appeared on Ron's face as he felt a stirring in his pocket. "Actually," he grunted, "I do."  
  
Monkey Fist was just about to ask what the sidekick meant when he felt a sharp pain in his calf. "Yeow!" he screamed, immediately releasing Ron from his unbreakable grip. Furiously, he looked down, tugging on his baggy gi, and found a tiny pink blob clinging to his pant leg. "You miserable little rodent!"  
  
Rufus waved, then scampered up the back of Fist's uniform as a pair of hairy paws snapped at his tail. "Ho-ho!" He paused at the simian's backside, planting his razor-sharp teeth into the soft posterior. Rufus was rewarded with another shriek of pain and another attempted grab, which the mole rat expertly avoided.  
  
Satisfied that Rufus had everything under control, Ron shifted his attention back on Drakken, who was still poking uselessly at his console to no avail; he had yet to release the missile's docking clamps or open the roof hatch looming above them. "What's up, Doc?" he called as he sprinted towards the blue baddie.  
  
Drakken looked around desperately, searching for someone, anyone, who could ward off the sidekick long enough for him to release the prize. Unfortunately, all of 'his' sidekicks were indisposed at the moment, leaving him helpless and alone. It seemed as though his plan was shot down the tubes…  
  
And then, as luck would have it…  
  
At that exact moment, the golf ball Killigan had left for Will decided to put on its grand finale, detonating in a ball of conflagration and tiny white shrapnel. Will hadn't quite made it far enough from the ball, and was thrown violently into the air. He landed in a heap, skidding across the floor-  
  
-and right in front of Ron. Though his reflexes were far better than they had been before, even he couldn't react fast enough. His boot caught right in Will's ribs, causing the agent to violently exhale his gag as the hapless sidekick was sent flying. Despite Drakken's pleading moans and warding hands, he tumbled right through the scientist, bowling him over and cracking his head against the console's keyboard.  
  
Lady Luck, deciding that Ron had caught enough breaks for the moment, threw a wrench into the works; Lights all over the complex immediately began flashing, and a loud metallic clank eminated from far below the platform, near the guidance fins of the massive, ancient weapon. A soft, feminine voice echoed throughout the building, speaking in a calm Russian dialect that echoed hauntingly across the cavernous chamber.  
  
"Wazzat?" Ron muttered dizzily, pulling his head from the keyboard. Tiny, reversed Russian letters dotted his face, intermixed with his freckles. "The cafeteria's daily special?"  
  
Will crawled pathetically towards the console, worming his way on his belly without the use of his arms or legs. "You IDIOT!" he cried, the only one to understand the situation (being the only one in the room that spoke Russian, among other languages). "That's the complex's self-destruct signal. You've activated the missiles!"  
  
Everyone, including Kim and her attackers, stopped at the sound of rusted metal scraping against metal as the gigantic shutters situated above the towering nuke slowly opened, revealing a gray, overcast sky above. "So that's not the soup of the day?" Ron asked meekly.  
  
Kim shielded her eyes from the flashing lights that warned of their eminent destruction. "RON!" she cried with exasperation.  
  
"Oh, come on!" Ron said pleadingly. He threw an arm around Drakken's shoulder, who had just now managed to pick himself up. "It's not like Doctor D here will let the thing he came to steal blow up."  
  
"Actually, this silo houses several nukes, with multiple launch pads." Drakken informed him.  
  
Ron digested the information calmly, rubbing his chin and nodding. "Uh…huh. Okay, new plan." He burst out in a full sprint, screaming and running for Will like a madman. "Fix-it-fix-it-fix-it-fix-it-fix-it!" he cried over and over, tugging at Will's bonds.  
  
The instant his shackles were torn away, Will shoved Ron aside and made for the console. "We have only moments to deactivate it," he muttered, examining the controls as Drakken slipped away, whistling nonchalantly.  
  
"Great." Ron said, then frowned. "What happens if we don't?"  
  
"This entire region will be reduced to an expanding ball of free-floating molecules and deadly radiation."  
  
"Oh." Ron stared down at the incomprehensible gibberish that scrolled by as Will pounded on the keyboard. "So, no pressure, right?"  
  
"Would you kindly shut up?"  
  
"Right." Ron drew his fingers across his lips, "Sure thing."  
  
Kim dashed over as Will worked his magic on the keyboard, typing furiously. Sweat dripped from the teen's brow as he entered command after command. In the background, the soft feminine voice droned on and the lights continued to flash red and yellow, warning anyone who dwelt in here that there was no time to flee, and that they should make peace with whatever deity they paid tribute to. "Can you stop it?"  
  
"Almost…" Will grunted, biting his lower lip as he entered the last command. "Almost…" With a tiny, ironic ding, the voice and lights ceased their warnings, returning the complex to its usual state of operations. "There!"  
  
The three of them breathed a collective sigh in relief, sagging visibly. "Glad that's over." Ron said cheerfully. "I hear radiation is murder on your complexion."  
  
Kim sighed once more as she saw Will ready his bellowing voice, presumably to chew Ron out, when a thought occurred to her. "Um, guys? Where did the bad guys go?"  
  
A sudden, mad cackling drew their eyes upward. There, beyond the open shutters in the Siberian sky, floated a small, sinister blue-and-black craft. The hovering vehicle already had several tendrils snaking down through the opening, hooked onto the massive nuclear missile.   
  
Drakken, Shego, Monkey Fist and Killigan all clung to individual strands of the metallic cords, looking down at their teenage adversaries as the airship hauled upwards. Monkey Fist held a small pink blob in his hand, which he disdainfully tossed down into Ron's quick hands.  
  
"Thanks for saving us, Kim Possible!" Drakken called out, waving to her. He soon lost his balance, though, and had to cling even more tightly to the cable. "We're off to sew the seeds of a new tomorrow! Ta-ta!"  
  
Kim watched dejectedly as Drakken's airship (which, for reasons that escaped her, bore his infamous 'Mr. Potty' logo) soared off into the sky, quickly moving out of their tiny field of vision. "Well, that's just great." she huffed, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "We've got a major villain team-up, and now Drakken has a nuke."  
  
Will merely pressed a button on his watch, speaking into the tiny microphone hidden within. "Mission was a bust, HQ." he said, scowling in Ron's direction.  
  
"Guys, guys," Ron placed Rufus back on his shoulder, grateful that Monkey Fist hadn't kept his little buddy. "I think we're missing the bigger picture here."  
  
"Which is?" Kim raised an eyebrow.  
  
"We didn't blow up Siberia," Ron stated proudly, "And thus avoided a nasty international incident. I think that's something to be pretty proud of." Even as Rufus nodded in agreement, he was a little phased by Kim and Will's equally frosty glares. "Right? Guys…?"  
  
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	6. Buildup

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
Kim Possible is a loose cannon cop on the edge who doesn't take guff from anyone. Cyberwraith Nine is her rookie partner, determined to avenge the death of his pet goldfish. Ron Stoppable is the woman they both fell in love with. Together, they make…NO PROFIT!  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
===============================================================================  
  
"Stupid, idiotic, irresponsible…" Will trailed off, his red face puffing as he searched for more words to hurl at his target. "And…and…"  
  
Ron yawned, appearing very bored at the agent's furious rant as they lounged in the cockpit of GJ's hoverjet. The craft currently cruised high above the Pacific, streaking back towards Upperton and home as Will finally divulged his displeasure at Ron's performance on the mission. "You forgot 'bumbling'." he offered helpfully.  
  
"Yes, BUMBLING!" Will threw his hands up in the air, swiveling away from the controls to glare at Ron. The hoverjet's whisper-quiet engines and state of the art autopilot allowed Will to scream at Ron unimpaired. Of course, that didn't mean Ron was particularly impressed…only that he was receiving quality reception.  
  
Sitting to the side, Kim watched silently at the two duked it out verbally. There were several places she wanted to spring in at, but she wasn't really sure which side to jump in on. On the one hand, Ron was her friend, and had only come because he was worried about her. On the other, Will had some very good points; Ron's carelessness 'had' nearly turned them into vacationing atoms.  
  
Will watched with increasing fury as Ron stretched lazily, lacing his fingers behind his head as he leaned back in his chair. Down at his leg, Rufus did the same, sagging against his pocket flap with a wide yawn. "Well?" The agent demanded, "Do you have anything to say?"  
  
He shrugged, letting his eyelids droop as he felt the aches and pains of the fight make their protest known. The one particular ache that was yelling at him was getting very annoying indeed. "I just think you're being too hard on yourself, is all." Ron said smugly, his eyes still closed.  
  
Will froze at this, his own eyes narrowing dangerously. A low groan wafted from the copilot seat as Kim laid her face in her hands. Leaning closer to Ron, Will felt his temper growing to dangerous heights. "I wasn't talking about myself, Stoppable."  
  
One of Ron's eyes cracked open and rolled lazily towards Will. "Oh, sorry." he shrugged again, "I thought you were yelling at the bozo who blew the mission." The comment drew another moan from Kim, though she didn't jump to either boy's rescue yet.  
  
"Remind me again which one of us disabled the nuclear explosion?" Will challenged.  
  
"Uh-huh. And which one of us couldn't even handle Killigan?" Ron kept his monocular look on the irate agent for a moment longer before returning to his 'nap'.  
  
"I…" Will stammered, turning three different shades of purple. He sputtered and fumed, so much so that Kim actually feared he might explode. Finally, he threw himself out of his chair, stomping his boots against the deck as he threw, "I'm going to write my report," into Ron's serene face.   
  
Then he clomped off, disappearing into the rear compartment. The door slid behind him with a silent electronic 'whoosh', which was really too bad; with the mood Will was in, some door-slamming would have done him some good.  
  
  
  
A low chuckle rumbled from the back of Ron's throat as soon as Will was gone. "That stick of his…" he laughed softly, shaking his head.  
  
  
  
Kim groaned with frustration, rising from her seat. "Forget the stick, Ron." she sighed. "Will's being a jerk, but he's not exactly wrong." She said the last part with a little hesitation.  
  
  
  
Now both of Ron's eyes were wide open. Even Rufus looked up, poking his head out of his pocket at Kim's uncharacteristically accusing tone. "What?" He sat back up, staring at her incredulously. "Kim, at least we…I mean, it's not like…uh…"  
  
  
  
"Ron," she shot him a look she usually saved for her father's 'Li'l Kimmie-cub' stories. "You nearly rendered a country uninhabitable."  
  
  
  
"Well, yeah," he said defensively, also rising. Rufus took the opportunity to jump into his warm seat, curling up with a squeaking yawn. "You aren't looking at the bright side…the big picture, so to speak." Ron insisted.  
  
  
  
She cocked a brow. "Which is?"  
  
  
  
He began listing reasons, ticking them off on his fingers. "One," he said, "There 'was' no nuclear explosion, to which you, Rufus and I are living proof of."  
  
  
  
"Granted." Kim nodded.  
  
  
  
"Two," he continued, "I only nearly blew up a country we don't even 'like'. It's not like," he searched, waving his hand in the air as if stirring around a list of options, "It's not like I nearly blew up France!" He paused, blinking as he considered his own words. "Wait, forget I said France."  
  
  
  
"And number three?" Kim asked with an air of impatience, trying desperately to keep her deadpanned expression from cracking.  
  
  
  
"Simple." His patented 'I'm-Ron-So-Please-Don't-Crucify-Me' smile flashed as he spoke. "If I hadn't been there, Will totally would have wet his jumpsuit." A deathly serious look crossed his face as he leaned in, whispering, "These seats are real leather. Can you imagine the mess?"  
  
  
  
Kim's features finally broke with a huge grin. She couldn't help but chuckle as she ruffled Ron's hair. "Okay, okay." she gave in with a laugh. "Just make sure there aren't any international incidents on the next mission, all right?"  
  
  
  
His entire face lit up at this. "Next time?" At her nod, he thrust his fist up and spun in his chair, squishing Rufus without even realizing it. "Boo-yah!"  
  
  
  
"In the meantime," she added with a sigh, "I'll try to smooth things over with Will." She was still a little ticked at Ron, but seeing as how they hadn't wound up in the middle of an expanding ball of thermonuclear death, things could have been a lot worse.  
  
  
  
As she slid back into her seat and turned to the controls, she felt a pair of strong hands envelop her shoulders from behind. A different kind of sigh erupted from her lips as Ron's nimble fingers kneaded her sore muscles. Her head lolled about as she melted contently into his touch, feeling kinks she didn't know she had being worked out.  
  
  
  
"No big, KP." he assured her. He gave another smile as she looked up at him, captivating him with her luminous eyes. Not for the first time, he found himself lost in her oceans of emerald beauty. He only hoped she didn't notice. "It'll be better after things calm down." he managed to say without stuttering.  
  
  
  
"I hope so," she moaned, patting his hand. Her cheek brushed against his fingers as she closed her eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. "This weekend's been a madhouse."  
  
  
  
"You'll see." he reassured her. "Once we get back to school, everything'll be okay."  
  
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-MONDAY-  
  
The dim lighting at Bueno Nacho was more than enough for Rufus to clearly see the look of dejection and worry plastered on his best friend's face. The naked mole rat was waist-deep in a Grande Nacho Platter, enjoying the sensation of warm cheese seeping between his claws as he gnawed on a veritable field of corn chips.  
  
Ron, on the other hand, was not enjoying his food nearly as much as Rufus was. It sat in front of him, still wrapped and stone-cold as he leaned against the booth's table, arms folded and head lowered. His eyes were locked ahead as if he were concentrating on some distant point. As Rufus well knew, the thought wasn't too far off. However, it was a person he was thinking of, and not a place.  
  
Heaving a sigh, Ron checked his watch. It was a quarter to ten o'clock. The sun had set long ago behind the row of campus buildings. Ron had a front-row seat, since he had occupied that very booth for the better part of three hours. And now, the place would be closing in a few minutes. "Where is she?" Kim almost never ran late, and when she did it was usually connected with some world-saving jiggery-pokery.  
  
"Hey!" a high, nasally voice called at him from the counter. Even without looking, he knew the word was directed at him. No one else had entered the store for a half-hour. "We're closing up. Either order something, or get out."  
  
Ron turned with a dull heart. Then he stopped, staring at the familiar face situated behind the counter. "Ned?"  
  
The pimply, greasy scowl behind the man's thick glasses was unmistakable, and Ron doubted that anyone else on the planet would wear such a hideous clip-on tie. Still, the man shook his head. "No," he insisted, pointing to his nametag, "I'm Ted. Though I do have a brother who works over in-"  
  
"Middleton, yeah." Ron finished for him, turning back to his food. The wrappers were still untouched, which was unthinkable for the Prince of Bueno Nacho. He had wanted to wait for Kim, remembering a few times when she had half-jokingly told him it was rude to start without someone. The one time he remembered, and she hadn't even shown up.   
  
"So?" Ted demanded, leaning over the counter. "You gonna eat something, or do I have to toss you out?"   
  
The thought of the skinny, noodle-armed taco jockey getting rough almost made Ron laugh out loud, but not quite. Ron stood obligingly, gathering up his cold food. A gentle hand removed Rufus as he took a napkin from the dispenser, cleaning the giggling rodent's claws before pocketing him. He gathered up the remains of what was going to be their dinner and tossed it away. "Yeah, I'm going."  
  
  
  
Seeing that he wasn't going to need to chase this one out, Ted grew a little curious. "What were you doing here, anyway?" he asked, pushing his glasses further up his grease-covered nose. "You've been here all night."  
  
  
  
"I was…" Ron paused at the door, looking back at Ted with an unreadable expression. "I was waiting for a girl."  
  
  
  
"A girl?" Ted laughed at this, pounding the countertop. "What kind of doofus would wait around that long for a girl? I would have gotten the message hours ago!"  
  
  
  
As he pushed through the door (quelling the sudden urge to force-feed Ted his own nametag), part of Ron couldn't help but agree with the clerk. Another part wondered what had happened; Kim had never stood him up without at least calling ahead. 'I'll give her a call tomorrow.' he thought to himself. He had already left several messages on her phone, so maybe she would call him. The thought brought a little cheer back to Ron, but not much.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
  
Kim laughed, swinging a nasty-looking sidearm at her side as Will walked her back to her door. They both wore GJ jumpsuits equipped with standard holsters, and Kim had to admit that the garment was growing on her. As she caught her blurred reflection in the polished metal of the corridor, even she had to admit that it looked good on her. Will had said as much…  
  
  
  
"Are you serious?" she said, red in the face from laughter. Surprisingly, Will was the same. She had never seen him laugh before, but since they had started training together, he had really loosened up. The calm, relaxed Will was definitely a side to him that she liked seeing.  
  
  
  
He nodded, holstering his weapon as he grinned at her. "Absolutely. My very first day of weapons training, Doctor Director herself…of course, then she was just Doctor Vice-Director, but all the same…I…" he trailed off, his words dissolving into infectious laughter.  
  
  
  
"Oh man," Kim gasped, out of breath.  
  
  
  
"I shot her eye patch right off." He zipped his finger right past his skull, mimicking a bullet's whistle. "Broke the strap. She said it was the most amazing shot she had ever seen."  
  
  
  
"You didn't!" she insisted.  
  
  
  
"It's true! And then I said, 'Well thank you, Doctor," He had to pause to recollect himself, stifling his laughter long enough to finish the story, "But…but I was really aiming for that target there next to you."  
  
  
  
"You lie!" Kim laughed, punching him in the shoulder.  
  
  
  
He took the blow good-naturedly, pretending to surrender to her superior fighting skill. "It's the truth. I don't think I've ever seen her look so pale."  
  
  
  
They continued on, laughing and carousing until they finally reached Kim's door. Will quieted at this, which prompted Kim to do the same as she opened the door. "Listen, Will…" she rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Thank you."  
  
  
  
"No problem." He took the firearm from her, placing it in his other holster so she wouldn't have to worry about it. "Firearms are a little hard to get used to at first, but you seem like a natural."  
  
  
  
"No," she insisted with a gentle shake of her head. Her hands raised in a gesture that circled the building as she said, "Thank you for…all of this. I guess that's why I've been so happy. It's amazing."  
  
  
  
"No thanks necessary." he countered. "It isn't anything you don't deserve, Kimberly."  
  
  
  
"Call me Kim."  
  
  
  
The two teens stood quietly for a moment, neither one sure of what to say. Both noticed that the distance between them had somehow shrunk. Finally, he pulled back, giving her a smile. "Good night…Kim."  
  
  
  
"Good night, Will." she returned the smile as her door slid shut. As she entered the apartment, her eyes caught sight of the clock over her microwave. She was surprised at how quickly the time had gone during Will's training session. Still, the dull ache in her muscles told her that it had been long enough.  
  
  
  
She began fixing herself a warm glass of milk when she noticed a blinking red light on her answering machine. Checking the ID, she wasn't surprised to find that all four messages were from Ron. "Probably wanted to talk about Physics." she smiled to herself, thinking back with a shudder to Wade's horrific science class. Still, as she pressed the button, she couldn't quite shake the nagging feeling that she had forgotten something.  
  
  
  
"Hey KP," Ron's voice echoed electronically from the machine. Kim's smile grew wider, until the message continued on. "It's about seven-twenty, and I'm not sure where you are. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Hope to see you soon."  
  
  
  
The digital recording beeped as it moved on to the next message. Kim frowned: Why was Ron checking up on her? "Wait a minute…" She rubbed her temples as that nagging feeling began to coalesce.  
  
  
  
"KP, hey," the next message started out. "Ron again. Eight o'clock on the nose. Your tacos are getting cold, but if you want to still pop on by, I bet we could get you a reheat or something."  
  
  
  
"Oh man!" Kim finally remembered, leaning back against her fridge with a mug of cold milk in hand. She had completely forgotten about meeting Ron for dinner.   
  
  
  
Her hand reached for the phone when the third message began to play. Pausing a second, she listened to the third, and then the fourth voice mail Ron had left for her. The last had come at nine-thirty, saying that the shop was closing soon. Some quick math told her that he had waited for her at least two and a half hours at Bueno Nacho.  
  
  
  
Her milk forgotten, Kim picked the phone up and dialed Ron's cell. A moment later, she heard his chipper voice pipe through. "Hey!"  
  
  
  
"Ron, I'm-"  
  
  
  
"This is Ron." The message continued. "I'm off fighting crime or failing a test, so leave your message at the sound of the naked mole rat. Ciao!" The message ended with Rufus's impression of an answering machine, followed by a pair of muffled chuckles before the real beep came.  
  
  
  
Kim left a quick message, apologizing profusely and offering to pick up dinner tomorrow, maybe after a movie or something. Then she collapsed into one of her easy chairs, feeling exhausted and guilty. "Hope he's not mad," she sighed to the empty room.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
-TUESDAY-  
  
"…There's something I have to tell you." he said, lowering his gaze to the floor as if ashamed, not of what he was about to say, but for not saying it sooner.  
  
She reached forward, cupping his chin with her slender fingers as she gazed into his warm, affectionate eyes. "Say it." she whispered. "You don't have to be afraid any more…"  
  
Gathering his courage, he grasped her by the waist and pulled her close. Their noses were almost pressing, their lips trembling with mutual hunger as he murmured, "I love you."  
  
Ron's lips synched in time with the silver-screen starlet's (which were uncannily large thanks to several collagen injections) as she replied, "And I, you." Then he snorted, stuffing a handful of popcorn into his craw as the two stars of the movie, 'Hearts of Crazy Flame', shared a deep, passionate kiss. "No one really talks like this," he complained softly to his friend.  
  
"Muh-oh." Rufus shrugged, scampering up his arm and diving into the bucket of popcorn. His blobby body melted into the cracks between each kernel, and a moment later the level of the popcorn began steadily dropping with a soft slurping sound.  
  
The teen sighed, setting his bucket in the noticeably-empty seat next to him. He wasn't sure why he was stuck in the stupid theater watching the stupid movie anyway, seeing as how Kim had stood him up…again. He had waited for her outside the theater all the way through the previews, and even past the first ten minutes of the movie before giving up and heading in.  
  
'Meet me outside of the theater,' she said. 'Seven on the dot,' she said. 'My treat, and dinner too,' she said. Now it was a quarter to nine, and the movie had reached its gag-worth climax. "Feel-good hit of the year my pasty white butt." he muttered darkly, stealing a few morsels of popcorn from his bucket before Rufus could finish it off.  
  
The movie itself was almost as painful as knowing Kim had blown him off a second consecutive time. The entire theater was filled with couples, watching a movie about two best friends who fell in love with each other when they went to college. Sometimes irony wasn't funny at all, and Ron suspected that if he knew what irony meant exactly, it wouldn't be funny at the moment.  
  
'Where are you, Kim?' he groaned inwardly, praying for the credits to hustle up.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Eighteen…nineteen…twenty!"  
  
Kim gasped, allowing Will to help her lift the bar back into its cradle. She had never tried the bench press before, and was pleased that her cheerleading muscles, while not huge, would at least start her out on the road to becoming leaner, meaner, and feistier in a fight.  
  
"Very nice, Kim." Will congratulated her, giving her a hand as she sat up, careful not to bang her head on the bar. He tossed her a water bottle, which she graciously accepted. "Would you like to try the leg press?"  
  
"And humiliate you on it?" With her cheerleading and general leaping and jumping that her previous missions had afforded her, she was willing to lay down money that her vertical was a lot higher than Will's. She shook her head, handing him the empty bottle as she sat up. Her sports bra and spandex pants were soaked with sweat, evidence of the effectiveness of Will's workout regiment. "I should probably get going anyway. Plans tonight."  
  
He shifted uncomfortably as he asked her, "A date?"  
  
"Not really." she grinned, wondering why he was so uncomfortable discussing her personal life. Maybe it was because he didn't have one of his own. Then again, he seemed to be opening up more and more to her as they spent time training together. Perhaps he finally felt he had someone he could talk to about all of the Global Justice things that monopolized his life. "I'm just meeting Ron for a movie."  
  
He checked the wall chronometer, frowning. "A little late to catch a movie on a school night, isn't it?"  
  
Her eyes flashed up at the clock, growing wide. It was already past nine…the movie had not only started, it was probably over with by now. "Oh man!" she cried, thumping herself in the forehead. "I can't believe this…"  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
-WEDNESDAY-  
  
"So if acceleration is the derivative of velocity, what is velocity the derivative of?" Ron looked up from his book, casting a puzzled glance at his study partner. More physics. It seemed to go on forever and ever, and none of it was making sense. Maybe he really 'would' use the Kimmunicator to ask Wade for some help. "What do you think?"  
  
Rufus looked up from his bottle of cheese sauce, grinning at Ron with a pink-and-yellow face. "Cheeze!" he squeaked, offering the vial to Ron. The teen politely declined, which prompted Rufus to dive back into his late-night snack.  
  
Ron sighed, sliding his book across his living room rug as he let his face drop into the worn fibers of the carpeting. Physics, he decided, was just too much for one person to understand on his own. Two or more were needed (and it was especially preferable if one of those people had a degree to begin with!).   
  
He had talked briefly with Kim at the lecture, but she was almost as distant then as she had been the entire week. Besides taking notes together in class, they hadn't spent any time together, and it was starting to bug him a lot. She always claimed it was some sort of 'training' or whatnot. And when they had been together, and not buried in some notebook, all she could do was talk about Will. 'Will said this,' or 'Will did that,' or 'Will's so funny, he reminds me a lot of you.' Well, who needed Will to remind her of him when he was right there, for pity's sake!  
  
  
  
Naturally, he hadn't breathed a word of his frustration to Kim. She was undoubtedly doing her best, and taking on more than a normal person could possibly handle. Still, that didn't change the fact that he missed his best friend.  
  
  
  
Sensing Ron's depression, Rufus scampered off. A moment later, the mole rat returned with the cordless phone, squeaking and shoving as he bonked Ron on the head with the device. Ron lifted his face from the floor, smiling at Rufus' suggestion. "Think I should?"  
  
  
  
"Uh-huh, uh-huh!" Rufus nodded eagerly, jumping up and down as Ron took the phone.  
  
  
  
With a sour face, Ron looked back at the counter, which held Will's ridiculously comprehensive file he had to finish filling out before he could actually visit Kim. 'They can stop me from coming,' he thought mischievously, 'But they can't stop me from calling!'  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
  
The phone beeped incessantly at Kim as she unburied her nose from the thick tome of GJ regulations and procedures Will had given her to study. She would be expected to know them and follow them relatively soon, so it was best to get a jump on things. If Global Justice was trying to contact her for mission-related stuff, they would have used the new Communicator hanging from her belt at the foot of her bed. She was engrossed with the new book of rules, and had already talked to her family earlier that night, so she figured the phone couldn't be too important.  
  
  
  
'Who could that be?' she wondered silently as she lay on her bed, using the tiny reading light at her side as her only other companion. Sometimes the big, empty place could feel a little lonely, but she knew that if she got 'really' desperate, she could always visit Will. He 'had' told her she was welcome any time, day or night. 'And there's Ron, of course.' she thought, wishing that he and Rufus could visit her there. She never had time anymore to go to the other side of campus, and desperately missed her best friend.  
  
  
  
'I should give him a call tomorrow before lecture,' she thought to herself as she returned to the rulebook. Down below in the living room, she heard the phone's beeping cease, but didn't hear the answering machine pick up in its place. 'Must not have been too important.' she affirmed her earlier thought. 'Now where was I?'  
  
  
  
"Regulation Alpha Charlie Three…always respond to a communiqué when able…"  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
-THURSDAY-  
  
Ron hung low in his lecture hall seat, barely paying attention to the enormous image of Wade lecturing them on gravitational acceleration. Next to him, his backpack sat in the seat he usually saved for Kim. In this case, she hadn't needed it, seeing as how she hadn't even showed up for the lecture.  
  
Jim and Tim, sitting in their usual spot behind him, leaned forward on either side of his head, murmuring right in his ear so as not to disturb the other students. "Where's Kim?" the fifteen-year-old set asked in unison.   
  
"How would I know?" he snapped back bitterly. Heavy bags hung under his eyes, a sign of the late-night studying he had pulled trying to figure out the day's lesson, as well as a three page essay in his literary analysis class. Likewise, his pocket was devoid of any furry, amorphous pink mole rats; Rufus had decided that Physics disturbed his breakfast digestion, and thus also had left Ron adrift in the sea of useless equations.  
  
"You mean you aren't in the loop?" Jim asked, slightly astonished.   
  
"Dude…" Tim agreed. Ron and Kim were so close, if a stranger were to have to decide between him and the twins as to which of them were actually her siblings, both Jim and Tim would have laid cash that the stranger would pick Ron in a heartbeat.  
  
All of that was forgotten for a moment when Wade's lecture suddenly stopped. The young teen stared at something on his own computer, reflected many times in the multi-screened lecture hall. Suddenly, he looked at the class and said, "People, you'll have to excuse me for a moment. Urgent business." He began typing furiously on his computer, frowning in concentration as the rest of the class buzzed.  
  
Ron was just about to mutter something himself when four musical tones erupted from his backpack. Glancing between the backpack and the hall's enormous main monitor, where Wade was staring patiently at his computer, Ron finally reached in and pulled the Kimmunicator out. He flipped it on, and was hardly surprised to find Wade waiting for him on the tiny screen.  
  
"Ron," Wade said, his voice emerging from the Kimmunicator's miniscule speakers, which were drowned out by the lecture hall's main sound system (also carrying Wade's message to Ron). "We have a hit!"  
  
"Um, Wade…" Ron glanced around, blushing furiously as people began noticing the very public private conversation their professor was having with him. "You might want to…"  
  
"What?" Wade asked. "Is everything okay?"  
  
Ron turned the Kimmunicator's camera towards the main screen, allowing Wade to see himself in 'surround-vision'.  
  
"Oh. Heh. Sorry about that, people. Class dismissed, or whatever." The hall's screens all winked out as the class raised their voices in a cheer. Not needing a second opinion, they began filing out in droves as Ron turned back to the now-mercifully confidential conversation. Jim and Tim leaned over as well, curious as to Wade's sudden interruption.  
  
"What's the sitch, Wade?"  
  
Wade split the screen, pulling up a map of the southern Pacific. Ron was a little familiar with it, having flown over it when he had traveled to Japan (to say nothing of the previous weekend's trip). "GJ's got a hot tip on Drakken's next move. Info's been leaked about a heist at a local technology consortium."  
  
Ron's frown deepened as he considered the facts. "I don't get it," he said at last. "Drakken's working with those Roddigan guys. I thought they had all the tech he needed."  
  
With a shake of his head, Wade withdrew the map. "They wouldn't have anything close to this. Cutting edge stuff…military, too."  
  
"Wonderful." He stood up, packing his things quickly. The twins jumped up and down behind him, straining to get a good look at the screen as Ron and Wade continued to talk. "Got a ride?"  
  
"Us too!" Jim exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah," Tim added, "We wanna help."  
  
"Great. Play back-up." Ron gave them a brief, half-hearted smile.  
  
"All right!" the twins traded high-fives, then looked confused. "Wait…" they said, still speaking in unison, "How do we do that?"  
  
"You can back up and out of the hall, go home, and stay safe."  
  
"Awww, Ron!"  
  
"C'mon Ron!"  
  
He shushed them both, turning back to Wade. "Back to the ride issue…"  
  
Wade seemed a little embarrassed. "Uh…slight problem. But," he added quickly before Ron could ask, "I think I have the solution. Only 'real' problem is, you aren't gonna like it."  
  
"Let's hear it."  
  
So Wade described the problem to Ron, as well as his solution. And it turned out, as with most things, that Wade had been right;  
  
Ron didn't like it.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 


	7. Detonation

=All Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
Kim Possible is a team of trained seals in the employment of Disneyworld and Disneyland. All usage of her and her oceanic entertainment troupe are without permission, but the actors were compensated with a large bucket of salty, smelly fish…and one naco. Go figure.  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
===============================================================================  
  
'I think I'm actually starting to get used to this thing,' she thought to herself, tugging on her collar once more as she took the copilot's seat for her own. 'How scary is that?'  
  
Kim made a few adjustments to her GJ uniform as the hoverjet prepared itself for takeoff. Outside of the view port, their warehouse's vehicle bay spun in a half-circle, coming to rest with the nose of the hoverjet aimed squarely at a long, dark tunnel which, in moments, would take them to the surface and beyond.  
  
Her hands tugged at the midsection of her stretchy uniform, snapping at the black fabric with irritation. 'I wonder if they'd let me cut the middle out,' she mused to herself. Functional or not, she still preferred to have a little ventilation in her uniforms. A nice breeze at the belly felt good when she was swinging from skyscrapers or duking it out with dastardly fiends.  
  
The doors to the rear compartment parted behind her, allowing Will access to the cockpit. "We launch in one minute," he said crisply.   
  
With a mission before them, he had reverted to all business, which was how she was used to seeing him anyway. The tiny glimpses of the person he was beneath the hard, cold surface, the ones he had let slip earlier in the week, were gone now. With each day, Kim understood Will a little better, but she would still have felt better if he cracked a smile or a joke, at least to ease the tension.  
  
However, she kept the comment to herself as she snapped her flight harness into place, tugging at the straps to ensure their security. "And we're going to Hong Kong…why?" Global Justice hadn't been very specific when they had called upon her as she was on her way to Physics. Her only instructions were to suit up and report in to Will. She hoped Ron would share his notes with her later…  
  
"Information leak." Will said as he checked over the instrumentation. Everything seemed to be in order, as it always was, but that never kept him from checking. It was in the rules, after all. "Global Justice got word of a Drakken heist being pulled on a technology consortium down there."  
  
"What's the damage?"  
  
"If he gets away with it?" Will glanced over at her, looking as serious as he always did. "The lab contains some of the world's most advanced weaponry. They've come up with things our government scientists can only dream about…and they sell to the highest bidder."  
  
Kim adopted an equal attitude, her eyes narrowing. "Only Drakken isn't willing to bid." She turned, her muscles already tensed for takeoff as she nodded in the direction of the runway/tunnel. "Then let's punch it."  
  
"Powering up engines." Will droned, flipping a pair of switches. The craft immediately began to vibrate as a soft, constant hum filled their ears.  
  
Hoping to lighten the mood a little, Kim gave him an encouraging smile. "Let's hope there aren't any more surprises." she quipped, thinking back to the evil alliance Drakken now commanded. At least this time, they were ready.  
  
"Don't worry," he responded cryptically, "There won't be."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Without looking at her, he continued to explain as he finished up the preflight check. "I've contacted the FAA, and they've cleared the airspace around the area we'll be landing in. I also took the liberty of deploying a GJ anti-interference net. Agents will keep the area cleared, so we won't be receiving any 'outside' anomalies."  
  
Outside anomalies. It didn't take a genius to figure out who that meant. "Oh," was all she could think to say. She felt a small sliver of disappointment at the thought of leaving Ron behind, for real this time. 'Then again,' she reminded herself, 'Maybe it's all for the best…' Sooner or later, she was going to have to accept the fact that Team Possible was behind her. She couldn't afford to let personal feelings get in the way anymore; she was an agent of Global Justice.  
  
"Sit back," Will warned her, reaching for the throttle. "We're taking off." He pushed the lever forward slowly, increasing the whine of the engines as the craft began to roll forward. The hoverjet taxied down the dark tunnel, building up speed before the ramp took a sharp turn upward, sending them hurtling out of the secret hatch hidden in an abandoned lot several miles away and up into the sky.  
  
Had Will waited an extra half-second, he and Kim might have heard a sharp, metallic ping echo from beneath their craft…  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
It was nighttime in Hong Kong. The heart of the bustling metropolis never slept, as was proof as the sleek, shadowy hoverjet touched down softly on the rooftop of the city's tallest skyscraper. Far below them, the lights and sounds of the nocturnal life buzzed, beeped and shouted, creating a background din that helped to mask their arrival.  
  
Will guided the craft onto the black tar top of the building with practiced grace, barely giving them a bump as the hoverjet settled onto the surface. Between that, the surrounding noise of the city, and the hoverjet's own stealth capabilities, it was a good bet that they would get the drop on their quarry, should the leak prove to be accurate.  
  
"Let's go." Will said crisply, tossing his harness over his head and marching quickly towards the back. Kim scrambled to follow him into the rear compartment. Silently, he offered her a multitude of weapons, which she declined with a wave. Instead, she took a single grapple gun and a cutting laser, in addition to her standard GJ equipment belt. Will seemed to accept this, but took a sidearm of his own nonetheless.  
  
The rear ramp lowered with a slow, ominous whisper, settling onto the ground with a soft thud. Will was already halfway down before the hatch finished cycling, with Kim close behind. He swept his firearm across the roof, clearing their entrance. Satisfied, he started to holster his weapons, then froze. His eyes narrowed as he looked back, scanning the shadowy, expansive rooftop and beneath the jet.  
  
Kim noticed his edginess, and immediately tensed. "What is it?" she hissed, her senses alive and focused.   
  
"It's…" he started to murmur. His search revealed no trace of sentry, intruder (besides them), or even automated defenses. "It's nothing." He grudgingly slid the weapon back into its holster as he motioned for Kim to follow him.   
  
Together, they crept across the rooftop and made their way to a central air system vent located conveniently in the center. Kim made good use of her laser cutter, slicing the bolts from the vent cover silently. Taking great care, they lowered the metal grate to the ground without a peep, then slid one by one into the vent, creeping down towards the lab in question.  
  
The very instant they were gone, a large, black bundle dropped from the bottom of the hoverjet, landing with a muffled thud onto the tar paper roof. The mass of black fabric wheezed and panted, struggling with itself until its folds were torn aside to reveal a young man gasping for breath.  
  
Half frozen and possessing magnetic cups on his hands and knees, Ron Stoppable groaned as his muscles screamed in protest at the three-hour supersonic flight from Upperton. The thermal blanket had been the only thing to keep him from becoming a Roncicle, and the breather mask hanging around his neck had supplied him with just enough oxygen to not die. The lack of a second, rodent-sized mask meant that Rufus would have to sit this mission out; he was sulking back at the apartment.  
  
"Whoa."   
  
Ron coughed, forcing his lungs to slow down before he made enough noise to tip off the two GJ agents in the air duct. With a groan, he rolled over, silently giving thanks to his Sensei for training him so well; without his mental and physical conditioning, he was fairly certain he would have dropped off the side of the plane somewhere over the ocean.  
  
With another cough, he unhooked the magnetic cups and tossed them into the lumpy blanket. "Well," he sighed, finally starting to feel recovered, "That sucked. Now, let's get to work."  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The interior of the lab was dark and heavy, with shadows cast from huge pieces of mysterious equipment. An expansive space, the lab sprawled across the better part of an entire floor of the skyscraper. Each experiment was afforded its own space to work within, but despite the open attitude of the architecture, the sheer number of different experiments left the place with a distinctly cluttered feel to it.  
  
…which is probably why it was only a matter of time before someone tripped over something.  
  
A sharp, meek cry came to Shego's attentive ears from behind as she led her 'team' in silence across the floor. With an irritated hiss, she turned back with a ready glare. Surprise was the last thing on her mind as she found that it was the tail end of their train causing the problem. "Lucre!" she growled.  
  
He hopped up and down, clutching one of his feet as he grimaced in pain. "I can't help it," he retorted loudly, "It's too dark in here!"  
  
"Please to be excusing me," Junior tapped his chin thoughtfully (or at least what passed for thought in his cavernous skull), "But is not crime an activity best executed while in darkness?" He looked past his hairy cohorts in front of him to gaze questioningly at Shego. "I seem to recall something like that in your lessons."  
  
She groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a pained expression. "Shut up. Just…just shut up." she half-pleaded, half-snarled.  
  
Monkey Fist growled softly, testing the air with his feral snout. The atmosphere in the lab was heavy with the after-aroma of knock-out gas, and stung at his delicate senses. "I don't see what all the secrecy is for anyway," he complained bitterly.  
  
"Aye," Killigan agreed, shouldering his driver as he looked about the darkened room. "I's no' like there's anyone left awake in the building after we dropped the gas canisters int' the ventilation system."  
  
"Fine," she growled back, "Go find a light switch or something, I don't' care. Amateurs," she snapped softly as Lucre hobbled off to find some light. He waddled slowly, weighed down by something large, boxy and metallic strapped to his back. "Don't even know why Drakken sent you anyway."  
  
Monkey Fist's sharp ears picked up the dig with no problems, despite her hushed mumbling. "We're here in case you screw things up, Side-kick." He accented her title heavily, grinning at her with sharp fangs of sarcasm. His grin soon faded as a balled fist of green flame stopped inches beneath his chin, singeing his fur.  
  
"Don't push me, Monkey Bars." she glared at him, extinguishing the flame and pulling her hand back slowly. Before Killigan could add anything, she beat him to the punch. "And you, McDoof…Same goes for you and your tacky skirt."  
  
"I's a KILT!" he spat back with venom in his eyes.  
  
Lucre, in the meantime, had managed to stumble over to the wall without further incident. Searching across the wide surface, he finally managed to find a set of switches near one of the doors. "Aha! Found it!" he cried gleefully, glad to be rid of the dark. He flicked the light switch-  
  
-and promptly screamed like a three-year-old girl.  
  
"What's the matter, Lucre?" Kim Possible asked nonchalantly, leaning against the wall not three feet from where the low-budget villain shrieked, "Afraid of the dark?" He had not seen her, for the shadows had cloaked her even more effectively than they had Shego's motley crew. Next to her, Will Du stood ready, his eyes narrowed and fists cocked.  
  
"Kim POSSIBLE!" Monkey Fist snarled, his argument with Shego forgotten for the moment as his feisty teen nemesis made herself known.  
  
Killigan jabbed his driver in her partner's direction, adding, "And tha' other one, Will Someth'n-or-Another!"  
  
"Du-  
  
"We don't care," Shego snapped, lighting her hands as she stomped towards the pair.  
  
"No," Will amended, "I meant, Du you give up?"  
  
"Clever," she smiled back at Will before taking off after the rapidly retreating Lucre. She grabbed him by the collar, yanking him off of his feet before he could get far. "So tell me," she asked him, "Wha'cha up to?"  
  
"Stay back!" Lucre yanked the straps from his body, slinging the apparatus on his back into his waiting arms. Whatever it was, it had a barrel aimed straight at Kim…and smelled of old tuna. "Or taste my wrath!"  
  
"Is…" Kim stared at the device; it appeared to be a poor conglomeration of random household stuffs. She noticed several blue wrappers stuck to the haphazard metal that comprised its bulk, as well as the old glass tube serving as its barrel. "Is that a gun?"  
  
"State of the art in laser technology!" he assured her with an evil grin as he cohorts closed in.   
  
"It looks homemade…" She gave the gun a disgusted appraisal that dissolved into a smirk. "Badly, too."  
  
"Advanced weaponry at a fraction of the cost," Lucre insisted, patting the side of the gun. He didn't seem to mind when one of the buttons fell off at his touch, though it didn't escape Kim's notice. "With retail, you're mostly paying for the labor, anyway." He pulled the trigger with a malicious grin, but received only a small puff of smoke from the end of the gun.  
  
Standing nearby, Will watched with hidden fear as Shego, Junior, Fist and Killigan all closed in on him. They looked hungry for blood, and did not appear particular at which of the teens they tore apart first. "Um, excuse me?" he threw in Kim's direction uncertainly.  
  
"Oh, right." She turned back to Lucre with an apologetic look. "Sorry, but I have to run. You stay right here, and we'll arrest you in a sec, 'kay?"  
  
"Well, I-oof!" Lucre couldn't help but wheeze as Kim drove her knuckles into his solar plexus, driving the wind right out of him as he fell to his knees. The jostling knocked more tiny components from his homemade laser gun, but neither noticed as he gasped for breath, and Kim rushed to join her partner.  
  
Shego led the pack, which had Will cornered by the door. "I was hoping to tear apart Kimmie's little blonde friend," she sneered at the defiant GJ agent, "But I suppose you'll 'Du' for an appetizer."  
  
"Let's just skip to the main course!" Kim leapt in, catching Shego off-guard with a flying side kick that knocked her clean off her feet. The two tumbled to the ground in a full-out catfight that served not only to entertain, but also to distract the villainous men.  
  
"I did not realize that could bend in such a manner…" Junior watched with curiosity and intrigue at the hair-pulling, clawing, biting, kicking and punching between the two women.  
  
Using the commotion to its fullest, Will leapt forward. What he lacked in witty rejoinders, he made up for in martial-arts prowess. A few well-placed kicks scattered the men quickly, putting them on the defensive. Now it was up to Will to keep them that way.  
  
Monkey Fist backed away with several handsprings, landing on his fingered feet as Junior took the brunt of Will's attack. "Killigan!" he shouted to the hairy Scotsman, "Find the Detonator! We'll keep this stand-in busy."  
  
"Watch who yer givin' orders to, yeh baboon!" Killigan shot as he backed away from the fight. He swept across the floor, inspecting the equipment present quickly as Monkey Fist leapt back into the fight. "Le's see," he muttered, passing up several devices, cannons, robots and gadgets. "I don' see it here…"  
  
"What are you looking 'fore'?"  
  
"Ach, tha's the oldest golf joke on the planet," he grumbled at the new voice, turning around. Then he gasped, nearly dropping his putter at the sight of a new body on the playing field. "I's YOU!"  
  
"That's right," Ron said smugly, leaning against the side of what appeared to be a gigantic battle-robot frame. "I's me. Ten points if you remember my name!"  
  
"The buffoon is HERE!" Killigan bellowed, raising his club high in the air as he charged the sidekick, ready to take his head off.  
  
Ron shrugged. "Close enough, I guess." He leaned further back, sticking out his foot as he avoided the swinging club by mere centimeters. Killigan's stride caught on the edge of the boy's heel, sending the rogue golfer tumbling end over end as he lost his club. With a casual catch, Ron took hold of the driver, hefting its weight appreciably.  
  
Kim took notice of Killigan's cry instantly, looking up from her fierce battle with Shego. "Ron?" her head snapped up as she straddled Shego's trapped form, ready to lay into the criminal face with her fists. It was Shego's turn to use distraction as she shoved Kim aside, rolling easily to her feet to loom over her fallen foe.  
  
"Too bad he can't help, Kimmie!" she sneered, raising a glowing green fist to deliver the finishing blow. She would have, too, except the soaring driver that struck her hand knocked her off-target, and the force of the blow drove her fist deep into the floor, wedging it painfully in the tile and cement.  
  
"Who says I can't?" Ron rushed up as Shego tugged furiously on her arm. He took a flying leap, flipping in mid-air to land gracefully on Shego's spine. The villainess grunted in pain as his feet pounded against her back, driving her onto the floor and knocking her senseless for the moment.  
  
Kim stared up incredulously as Ron bowed at the waist, offering her a hand up with a smile. "Hey KP," he greeted her casually, "Thought you could use a hand."  
  
"Stoppable!" Will barked, ducking beneath Monkey Fist's hairy strike as he drove his foot into Junior's stomach. "That's impossible!"  
  
"I know who she is," Ron called back as he hauled his best friend to her feet. He gave her a smile and a wink. "Like I wouldn't know who Kim Possible is…"  
  
"That's not what I-"  
  
"Could we focus here?" Kim asked, glad to see Ron, but still exasperated with the both of them. Honestly, was it something on the Y-chromosome that made boys totally lose sight of the real problems? Or maybe all that testosterone just made them fight with one another for no good reason. "We're in a fight, remember?" she glared at the both of them.  
  
"You got it, KP." Ron gave her a rakish salute before back-flipping away. He couldn't resist showing off as he jumped into Will's fight, landing back-to-back with the senior agent to face off against Monkey Fist. "So…" he said casually, "How we doing?"  
  
"You shouldn't be here," Will hissed over his shoulder as Junior picked himself back up, wiping a thin trail of saliva from the corner of his mouth. The next generation of villainy was severely ticked at the boot print Will had placed on his yellow designer shirt, and seemed anxious to even the score.  
  
"You know," Ron said irritably as he and Monkey Fist began to circle one another, "You're really territorial about this whole hero thing, aren't you?"  
  
"It's all a game to you, isn't it Stoppable?" Will shot back without looking, keeping his eyes glued to Junior.  
  
Ron snorted. "Sorry I don't have a stick up 'my' butt about saving the world." he snapped, flexing his fingers as he watched Monkey Fist size him up. "I prefer to find some joy in my work."  
  
"I was enjoying my job just fine before you showed up."  
  
"Well excuse m-"  
  
Monkey Fist couldn't take it anymore. He leapt forward, putting his face just inches from Ron's as he growled, "Excuse me, ladies? Could we please save the chatter for the sewing circle?"  
  
"Yes," Junior agreed readily, "All this nattering is giving me a headache…" He rubbed his temples as if to prove the point. "This is worse than when father has business guests over for dinner. All the constant talking and talking about nothing at all…it's very bad for digestion."  
  
"Chew on this." Will lunged, driving his fist into Junior's ill-prepared mouth. The bad son's head snapped back with the force of the blow, dazing him worse than any other had so far in the fight.  
  
"Now you're getting it," Ron said enthusiastically at Will's quip. He put his new proximity to the hairy Kung Fu master to good use, driving his knee deep into the pit of the Englishman's stomach. "Keep practicing, and you'll be as good as me someday."  
  
"The day I aspire to become you," Will grunted, slipping in close to the insensate Junior and tossing him at the hip with an expert judo throw, "Is the day I turn in my hoverjet for a Volvo."  
  
"I hear those have great safety features." Ron replied as he slipped his heel behind Fist's, knocking the breathless baddie onto his butt with little effort.  
  
Kim observed the boys fight for a moment, shaking her head with worry and disbelief. "And their gender rules the world…"  
  
"I know," Shego, freshly released from her concrete cuff, managed to wrap an arm around Kim's neck from behind. Kim felt the villain's jumpsuit pressed up against her own as she struggled against Shego's superior grip, gagging and choking.  
  
Will and Ron stopped in mid-fight, just as they had their respective foes on the ropes. "Kim!" they shouted in unison, turning to where the emerald enemy held their redheaded ally as a hostage.  
  
"No one moves," Shego said angrily, allowing a spark of green to manifest near Kim's throat. Try as she might, the heroine couldn't budge Shego's arm away from her neck, though the plasma fire was a wonderful added incentive. "Killigan, get back up and grab the Detonator. Junior, Monkey, grab 'Fragile' Lucre over there," she gestured to where the frail, pasty man was sitting on the ground, clutching at his stomach. "I want us gone in five minutes."  
  
Ron fumed silently as Shego's orders were carried out. He and Will remained absolutely still, unable to do anything so long as Shego held Kim. It was an unusual situation for Ron; he was usually the bad guys' leverage against Kim, and not the other way around. "You'll never get away with this, Shego."  
  
"Blah, blah, blah." Junior flapped his hands as his simian cohort hauled Lucre, crappy laser and all, up onto his feet. The accountant's fake beard was askew, but beyond that he seemed all right. "Must you heroes constantly rely on those tired clichés?"  
  
Kim was suddenly struck with inspiration. "Yeah, Ron…" Kim grunted, her arms still tugging uselessly against Shego's grip. "Can't you be more original…like a couple years back in San Francisco?"  
  
Will could only tilt his head in confusion, but Ron knew exactly what to do in a heartbeat. His feet carried him slowly, moving carefully so as not to upset Shego. He drifted to the left, towards Will…or more importantly, to the utility belt strapped around his waist. It took only a moment's examination to find what he needed. "I can't take credit for that, KP…" he shrugged, playing along. "It was your idea."  
  
"What are you two talking about?" Will growled, gnashing his teeth as Ron drew ever closer. "You're at death's door. Is this really the time for reminiscence?"  
  
Reaching into his pocket, Ron casually drew out his cell phone. It wouldn't be of much help as far as communication (he hadn't used it since Kim had given him the Kimmunicator anyway), but spying the light switch just a few yards from where he stood, he figured it had just the right heft.  
  
"Ah found it!" Killigan cried from down the row of experimental equipment. He hefted a small rectangular box of circuitry and wiring that looked barely large enough to house a pair of shoes. If it was in this lab, though, it had to have been exceedingly dangerous. "Can we go now?"  
  
Kim looked to Ron, clamping down on a small, excited gasp as his hand reached into his pack from behind, pulling out her old grappling gun. Normally the sight of Ron with a grapple gun would only instill fear (or the possible anticipation of comedy, depending on how funny she found Ron's boxers at any given moment). But if Ron got the plan right, it would turn the score around for the good guys. "I think it's time to go," she replied before Shego could. "Wha'cha think, Ron?"  
  
"Couldn't agree more, KP." Ron's hands acted as one, moving in total synchronization. With his left, he hurled his cell phone at the light switch, not bothering to see if it hit: He knew it would. His right tossed the grapple gun in a long, wide arc that ended perfectly in Kim's waiting hand.  
  
The lights went out as Ron's cell phone struck the switch, plunging the room into total darkness just as Killigan was running forward with the mysterious 'detonator' that they had come to retrieve. In the initial instant of confusion, Ron reached over to Will's utility belt, ripping off a standard issue GJ flash grenade. He silently gave thanks to Will's unyielding, freakish adherence to standard procedure as he ripped the pin from the grenade, hurling it high into the air.  
  
In once instant, the room had been comfortably lit. In the next, there was total darkness. Now, in the third instant of Ron and Kim's slapdash plan, the entire lab was filled with a painful explosion of light as Will's flash-bang went off over their heads, searing the retinas of anyone who didn't happen to be blinking at just the right second. Both Kim and Ron had closed their eyes tightly, retaining a modicum of sight. Then, just as planned, Ron rushed forward to rescue Kim from Shego's deadly arms.  
  
Unfortunately for their plan, Will had not been privy to any of it. In fact, he had been looking right at the spot where the flash-bang had gone off, following his grenade's arc in confusion after Ron had thrown it up. He groaned as the painful light seared his retinas, moaning in time with the rest of Shego's band as he stumbled about-  
  
-and stuck his foot right in Ron's path.  
  
For the second time in as many missions, Ron's feet failed him and sent him stumbling forward with no control. He careened towards Kim and Shego, yelping as he tried to regain his balance in time.  
  
Kim had forgotten Shego for the moment, who was too busy rubbing her eyes to threaten her life. Using their reaction to the flash-bang as cover, she took aim at Killigan with the grapple gun, targeting his bare, hairy legs to tangle him up before he could escape with the device.  
  
A large, dark blur barreled into her just as she was squeezing the trigger, knocking her, Shego and her unknown assailant to the ground. Her aim went wide, sending the grapple too far to the right-  
  
-and straight into Lucre.  
  
Frugal Lucre took the grappling hook square in the breadbasket, causing him to exhale so violently that he blew his own goatee right off his face. He doubled over, inadvertently dropping his homemade laser cannon. The crappy, do-it-yourself machine was jostled internally and externally and, through some miracle of the fall, decided that 'now' was the right time to start working.   
  
The fragile barrel of the haphazard weapon spewed forth a crimson beam of death that swept across the floor, cutting a swath of destruction greater than the combined forces of the villains could possibly have mustered. Experiments, computers, and machinery of all types were sliced apart. Killigan, Monkey Fist and Junior, who had just recovered somewhat from the flash grenade, were quick enough to dive to the floor as the laser passed over them. The great bay windows of the lab melted and shattered beneath the awesome might of Lucre's less-than-awesome laser as it destroyed thousands of work-hours and billions of dollars worth of equipment. Engines of destruction or hope, it didn't matter; none were spared.  
  
  
  
Dazed and confused, Ron doubled over on the ground as a sharp, feminine foot plunged into his stomach. "Sorry to run," she smirked down at him, giving him another kick for good measure, "But I think we've found what we came for." Her smugness was tempered with worry as she saw Kim Possible collecting herself a few feet away. "Let's go, boys!"  
  
  
  
"Yet another victory for the Legion of Villainous Evil!" Junior cried as they exited the lab together in triumph.   
  
  
  
Killigan was the last to leave, spreading a wave of explosive golf balls behind them to cover their escape as he carried the detonator under one arm. "Be seein' ya!" he cackled as the balls exploded, leaving a haze of smoke and flames that they vanished into. By the time the air had cleared, they were gone, leaving only the swinging doors of the lab in their wake.  
  
  
  
Kim groaned, picking herself up off of the ground. She tossed the now-useless grapple gun aside with a groan. Nearby, Ron sat up with a fitful cough, and beyond him Will stumbled about, still blinded by his own grenade.  
  
  
  
"What happened?" he asked blindly, waving his arms in front of him as he stumbled about. "Where are they? Kim?"  
  
  
  
"Oh man…" Ron wheezed, clutching his stomach. He rubbed his aching head, looking up at his best friend as she approached him. "We blew it?" he asked in a small voice. The five villains combined hadn't worried him in the least, but he would have given anything to avoid the look Kim had on her face then and there.  
  
  
  
"Yeah…" she grunted, looking as annoyed as Ron had ever seen her. "We did."  
  
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The Hong Kong police, who had responded extremely slow in Kim's opinion, finished up with her official statement as they all gathered at the bottom of the towering skyscraper. Bits of glass and flotsam still littered the street from Lucre's final laser barrage, but thankfully the streets below had been deserted enough to avoid anyone getting injured. It was one of the few things Kim was thankful for at the moment.  
  
She leaned against the Hong Kong squad car, sighing with relief as the insistent officer finally backed off and took his notepad elsewhere. Nearby, she saw Ron sitting in the open door of another squad car, graciously accepting a cup of coffee from one of their 'rescuers'.  
  
"Something has to be done." came a gruff, no-nonsense voice from behind her. She didn't even have to turn around to know it was Will…and she didn't even have to ask to know what he was talking about.  
  
With a sigh, she turned to her new partner, flipping a stray lock of copper hair from her face. "He only came because he was worried about me," she insisted gently.  
  
Will's stony resolve remained so. "And because of him," he said, "Drakken's henchmen have gotten away with another piece of what can only be an insidious plot for world conquest."  
  
"That's not true!" Kim said indignantly, stamping her foot as she crossed her arms in defiance. "We don't…I mean, it's not like he…" She searched desperately, trying to come up with a spin on the scenario where it wasn't Ron's fault. But in the end, even the girl who could do anything couldn't come up with a lie convincing enough to fool herself.  
  
Sensing her acceptance, Will reached forward and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. For the first time since she had known him, he seemed truly apologetic. "I'll go talk to him." he said, starting to pull away. But she caught his hand before he could get far.  
  
"No." she shook her head. "I'll do it." Gathering her courage, she began walking purposefully towards Ron's seat, balling her hands into fists and shoving the miserable pocket of anxiety deep inside of her.  
  
Ron only made things worse. "Hey KP!" he said brightly, giving her a tiny wave. He started to take a sip of coffee, then thought better of it and offered it to her first. "You want?"  
  
"No…thanks." she said uneasily. "Listen, Ron-"  
  
"Nasty stuff with those guys…" Ron muttered, shaking his head. He looked himself over, noting a dozen new bruises and tears in his mission clothes that would need attention. "What do you think they took?"  
  
"We don't know yet. Ron…" she started again, but was quickly cut off.  
  
"Y'know, I bet if Rufus were here, we really could have stuck it to them. I'll have to figure out a way of smuggling him along underneath your jet next time." He seemed amused by the admission, as if adhering to government aircraft was just an everyday occurrence for him.  
  
"Ron." Kim said at last, fearing she would never get what she had to say out. It was hard enough, what with him being…well, being Ron.  
  
He sensed her discomfort immediately, and wondered why he hadn't picked up on it sooner. "KP? Everything okay?" He suddenly stood up, taking her hand in his. "You're not hurt, are you?" he asked in a mild panic, checking her pulse at her wrist. His other hand pressed up against her forehead as he took her temperature, fussing over her in a ridiculous, embarrassing scene. "We can get an ambulance, don't worry! Somebody, CALL AN-"  
  
"RON!" she cried, ripping his hand from her head. "Will you just listen for a minute?" She was both glad and miserable that she had his full attention now, watching him calm down as he looked at her with those big brown eyes that worked on her just as her puppy-dog pout worked on him. "Listen, Ron…I…I don't want you coming on any more missions."  
  
The effect would have been the same if she had taken a white-hot poker and jammed it into his heart. "Wh…what?" he murmured, blinking heavily. He stumbled back, catching himself against the squad car lest he fall to the ground.   
  
"Look, Ron…" she rubbed the back of her neck, looking down and away. Tears were welling up in her eyes, but a quick glance in Will's direction strengthened her resolve a bit. "Things are different now…a lot different. I have this whole new life, and-"  
  
Some of the shock was starting to wear off, and unfortunately Ron's mind had chosen to replace it with bitter feelings. "Yeah," he said softly, but with increasing strength, "You have a big, bright life now…Too much to do to spend time with ol' Ron."  
  
"What?" It was her turn to be shocked at his tone.  
  
"You heard me," he insisted with a slight scowl on his brow. "You've been ditching me, avoiding me, and now you kick me off the team just because there's a new model on the showroom floor!"  
  
"Ex-cuse me!" she responded back, feeding off of some of his ire and returning it in kind. "I don't know if you recall, but 'you' were the one who pushed me to take this 'big, bright life', and now you're complaining that I'm a little busy?"  
  
"Little busy?" he shot back. "KP, I haven't seen you all week!"  
  
"So?" she threw her arms up in the air. "I went three whole MONTHS without you! You don't think that was tough?"  
  
He blinked again at that, taken aback at the shot. "That…that was different…" he insisted weakly.  
  
"Yeah, real different. Just like you, Ron!" Her hands were on her hips now as she leaned in, glaring at the one person she had never thought she would be so mad at. "You come back a completely different person after that whole 'summer school' thing in Japan, and whenever I try to ask you about it, you give me the brush-off!"  
  
Some of the flame returned to Ron's eyes as he stood up again, meeting her eye-to-eye. "Brush-off?" he demanded, finding his voice once more. "You mean like the runaround you've given me all week? At least I wrote you letters from Japan, Kim. You can't even be bothered to pick up a phone anymore! And you say that 'I'm' the one that's changed?"  
  
"Yeah!" Kim's voice had reached a full shout now, just to be heard over Ron's as she hollered back her retort. "The old Ron wouldn't have showboated on a mission like some fool Jackie Chan wannabe! He wouldn't have screwed up our missions as much as you have, either!"  
  
There are moments in life when we say things we wish we hadn't, either because of embarrassment or lamentation. Then there are moments when we say things that we would pay dearly to erase. But above those exist the moments in life, the little phrases or quips that we would give absolutely anything to take back. And as Kim saw the hurt flood Ron's eyes, the twitch that clenched at his jaw, she realized just what it was to experience that moment of ultimate regret.  
  
A tic had overrun Ron's right eye, twitching wildly as if he were holding back a great something. "V…Very well, 'Agent Possible'," he said, stressing the formality of her new title. "I'll leave you to your work." He turned away, stalking off with confident steps, his head held high and fists clenched at his sides.  
  
With a start, Kim almost chased after him. "Ron…wait!" she called. She watched him stop stiffly, but he did not turn around. With a sigh, she said, "At least let us give you a ride-"  
  
"Thank you, Agent Possible…" he said with his back turned, "But I'll find my 'own' way home." With that, he continued off, weaving in between the various police vehicles and reporter vans gathered around the crime scene. She saw him pull out the Kimmunicator and put in a call to Wade, though he was too far away for her to hear.  
  
"Well…well fine!" she called, angry that he had slapped her offer back at her so coldly. Though in reality, part of her could hardly blame him. She staggered back, falling into the seat he had occupied as she watched him vanish into the crowds of onlookers and reporters and police officers. And as he disappeared, she wondered why the world suddenly looked so blurry, and why her face felt warm and wet.  
  
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	8. A Brief Intermission

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
Kim Possible has webbed toes and looks good in a two-piece. Her sidekick, Ron Stoppable, is often overlooked and (for some inexplicable reason) commits suicide in numerous fanfiction works. He should really see a counselor or something about that. I'd help him, but I didn't make any money writing this fic, so I can't really do anything except pat him on the back the requisite three times (twice is for a good job, and four times is just excessive).  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Life is a funny creature.  
  
There is absolutely no way to predict the shifts and twists of life's moods. One minute, she gives you everything you ever wanted, making poor men into affluent kings and ostracized women into powerful empresses. She distributes as she sees fit in a manner that those who cannot fathom her call 'luck'. And yet, in less time than it takes to blink, she takes it all away on another whim, leaving that person worse than before; broken, for they knew their dream and lost it.  
  
Take one Brick Flagg for example; all through high school, he enjoyed popularity and success as the big fish in a small pond. Though hardly in comparison to the great, world-renowned Kim Possible in reputation, as the school's championship quarterback he was headed for great things. Colleges competed for him with scholarships of increasing value, vying for the next All-American football player who would bring their team glory and prestige.  
  
And then one night after graduation, Brick had the unfortunate luck to run into an old friend, and older friend who had already graduated and was on scholarship to the very college Brick himself had selected. After a night of binge drinking and debauchery, the two were featured on the morning news, having strung themselves up by their own underwear on Middleton High School's flagpole. He subsequently lost his scholarship, lost the support of his family and friends, and lost all of that wonderful respect and popularity he had held. He's now flipping burgers at The Happy Clown on First and Main.  
  
…and all because he went to the store for milk an hour later than his mother asked him to.  
  
See? Life likes to be ironic like that; hitting a man when he's at his peak, when he has absolutely everything going for him. But of course, life, being the tricky creature she is, can switch tactics at any time, if it suits her fancy. Sometimes she enjoys taking a creature so low, so miserable, who thinks it cannot possibly get any worse, and hits it with both barrels right in the hindquarters.  
  
Take one Ron Stoppable for example…  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"You're doing what?"  
  
Ron stared in disbelief at his Uncle Donald ('Don' to his friends and family), the landlord of the apartment he was standing in at the moment. He was still dressed in his mission clothes, and smelled strongly of grouper after Wade managed to hail him a ride home from Hong Kong on a fish freighter. He was sore, he was miserable, he was so angry he was seeing red, and he had come home to find his uncle waiting patiently in his apartment (using his landlord's key to get in).  
  
Don Stoppable, a short, portly man much like his brother with dusty blonde hair and a bushy mustache, shrugged helplessly at his nephew. "Sorry, my boy," he said, feeling truly bad…and keeping his distance from the fishy lad. "But it's standard of all new tenants. I haven't been able to catch up with you all week. Why haven't you checked your voice mail?"  
  
"But Uncle Don," Ron pleaded loudly, so much so that he woke Rufus up from his nap. The watery rodent oozed out of the bowl he used to hold his shape whenever he slept, poking his whiskery head over the rim and blinking at the Stoppable men. "I don't have that kind of money to part with!"  
  
"Oi, Ron!" his uncle grimaced, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We've been over this. I can't give you special treatment because you're family. You have to put a security deposit down on the apartment, same as everyone else."  
  
"You could have mentioned that when you invited me to live here." Ron grumbled irritably, walking over and slamming the fridge door open. He retrieved a bottle of water and closed the fridge with equal force, taking a long drag of water.  
  
"I tried. Your parents were supposed to fill you in while you were off in Prague, or wherever."  
  
"Yamanouchi…"   
  
"Whatever. Ron," Don sighed sympathetically, but folded his arms with grim seriousness. "This is non-negotiable. You want to live here, you need to get me that deposit. Now, I've given you an extension already…"  
  
"Okay, okay!" Ron snapped irritably, finishing off the bottle. He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his messy blonde locks as he collapsed into his overstuffed easy chair. "You'll have your check tomorrow."  
  
Don afforded his nephew a single clap on the shoulder. He was truly apologetic, but money was money, even between family. "That's a good lad." he said cheerfully.  
  
Ron bit back several choice words as his uncle let himself out, sinking further into his comfy chair as he let the empty bottle drop at his side. A soft scampering of feet gave Rufus' approach away, so he wasn't surprised when his buddy's tiny pink head poked over the edge of his seat, looking down at him curiously. "You okay?" the mole rat squeaked at him.  
  
"I'm fine, buddy." he grumbled, burping as he rubbed his injuries. "Just means I have to dip into savings a little, that's all." Of course, his savings were beyond pitiful, and the monthly allowance his parents gave him were just enough for rent and food…he didn't have any to spare for this new expense.  
  
'Have to talk to Uncle Don tomorrow…' he mumbled as he felt his eyelids growing heavy. 'Need a loan, or a job…some kind of help. Maybe KP can…'  
  
And the last thought Ron managed before blissful sleep finally claimed him in that easy chair was the depressing notion that Kim wouldn't be around to help at all.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
As Shego approached the construction frame of the ill-named Drak Force Five with the stolen component in hand, she couldn't help but notice Drakken as he worked on his newest, greatest project. As hard as it was for her to admit, she had seen better angles of him before.  
  
"Junior!" Drakken called from within the rocket, "Give me the electro-spanner!" His back half hung out of the access hatch he had stuffed himself into, reworking the components within to suit his evil purposes. After a moment of waiting, he called again, "Junior! JUNIOR!"  
  
Señor Senior Junior sat with his back to the rocket and his feet dangling over the edge of the scaffolding. The fact that the only thing separating him from a three-hundred foot fall was a sectioned piece of metal grating didn't seem to bother the youthful villain; he held a gaming system in his hands, and was merrily bopping his skull to the beat of the headphones strapped to his ears.  
  
Heaving a sigh, Shego approached the two, wondering how on Earth Drakken had ever thought it a good idea to implement this whole 'Legion' business. He still had the henchmen running about in those awful monogrammed uniforms, insisting that the good money spent on them not be wasted. Unfortunately, their tight-fisted accountant agreed, giving the brutish help little choice.  
  
She cleared her throat noisily as she reached the rocket, surprising Drakken into a violent reaction that caused him to strike his head against something hard and metallic. The resonating bonk continued to hum even as he pulled his lumpy head from the hatch, rubbing the newest addition to his cranium painfully. "Shego!" he snarled, "What is…ooh!"  
  
His anger was forgotten as he snatched the tiny box of circuitry from her hands, laughing gleefully like a schoolgirl. "I got your bomb-thingy, like you said." she waved at the device. With the fight behind her and no new prospects on the horizon, she was incredibly bored. Now was the part of the plan where Drakken put everything together.  
  
"Excellent!" he held the box aloft, gazing at it like a proud father. "And now, with the Pulson Detonator, the finishing touches on Drak Force Five can be completed! Assuming…" he glared down at his incompetent assistant, "That I can get some DECENT HELP AROUND HERE!"  
  
"Just a minute, Doctor Drakken," Junior said distractedly, not bothering to look up as he made his way through the final level of Spaztic the Ground Squirrel. "I am having trouble locating…whatever tool it is you asked me to get."  
  
Drakken shoved the Pulson Detonator beneath one arm and used the other to rip the headphones off of Junior's empty head. The pretty boy protested loudly as his scientist supervisor threw his MP3 player, phones and all, down into the abyss looming beneath them. "We are at a critical stage of construction here," Drakken growled, pushing his face into Junior's. "So we cannot afford any screw-ups. Understand?"  
  
"If you did not want screw-ups, why did you ask me to be your assistant?" Junior seemed truly confused, whereas any other of his associates would have said that out of sarcasm. "Father says-"  
  
"We don't have time for this." Shego interrupted. Truthfully, she didn't know 'what' kind of schedule they were on: She just couldn't take any more idiocy. "What about those farm thingies? Aren't the Knights supposed to be taking care of that?"  
  
"Yes…" Drakken mused, raising his other hand to his chin. He didn't even notice that it was the hand that supported his valued Pulson Detonator, but Shego was fast enough to catch it before it took a tumble. "It has been a while since we received an update from those three…" He turned to Junior, glaring at the useless layabout. "Think you can track them down?" he asked snidely.  
  
"Fine!" Junior sighed, hauling himself to his feet with a disgruntled puff of breath. "I do not see why we are putting so much effort into all of this, anyway. The previous mission only served to prove that Kim Possible and her stylish-yet-incompetent sidekicks are no match for us."  
  
"Yes, well…" Drakken huffed at Junior's receding back, shaking a fist at the lazy boy, "Do you think Kim Possible and her sidekicks are just sitting around, playing games? I don't think so!"  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Ron cursed, leaning up from the table with his pool cue in hand. "Unbelievable!" he hissed as the cue ball zipped right past his mark, pocketing itself neatly in the corner.  
  
Monique leaned against her own cue, smiling obnoxiously at her opponent. "Scratch."  
  
"I 'know'." he raspberried her, pulling a face as she pulled the cue and one of his striped balls from the pocket. He looked up to the ceiling of the student union's game room, holding his arms out in a gesture to the powers that be. "Oh pool gods, why hast thou forsaken your most faithful disciple?"  
  
"You haven't been keeping up on your sacrifices." his beautiful opponent smirked, tugging at the spaghetti strap of her tank top. There, in the crowded, darkened hall that served as the students' getaway for relaxation and study, it was warm enough for her to wear something that flaunted her figure. In the rapidly-cooling September weather, a girl needed to take every opportunity to catch the eye of a gentleman or two…though the gentleman she was with at the moment had her worried for different reasons. "You should buy me a basket of buffalo wings in their honor."  
  
"Aheh, aheh…" Ron laughed mockingly. He took a step back from the table, gesturing with a polite, mocking bow at the waist. His scornful smile soon fell as Monique proceeded to pop two of her own into separate pockets, setting up her next shot beautifully. "Aw, man…" he groaned, leaning his forehead against the end of his cue stick. "This really, really sucks…"  
  
"What's the matter, Ronnie-boy? Can't handle being out-classed?" She bounced her next shot off of the soft green felt, failing to pocket any of her balls but giving Ron an exceptionally poor shot. When she didn't hear him retort, she looked over at him with more concern. "Ron?"  
  
Ron pulled his face off of the cue, failing to notice the tiny dot of chalk on his forehead. Despite the humorous spot, Monique was far more interested in the morose expression he wore. "It's official; this week sucks royally."  
  
"Why?" she asked. "Because you're losing a couple of bucks off of a game of pool?"  
  
"Being 'hustled' is more like it." he grumbled, somehow managing to re-pocket the ball his last scratch had released. "I swear to god, this has been the worst week of my life ever."  
  
"Would that be the pool god, or the regular variety?" Monique couldn't help but smirk. At his pained expression, she relented, taking her shot and then backing away from the table. "Okay, okay…so what's made it so awful?"  
  
"Haven't you been listening?" Ron snapped as she circled the table, heading for her pink lemonade at the far end. "Class is a nightmare, my uncle is bleeding my dry, and Kim…" He choked at the last bit, looking away lest Mon see his eyes watering slightly.  
  
Monique reached her drink, and then frowned; there were two glasses of pink liquid in front of her, both pink and both still. "Which one is mine?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh," he looked over, waving her off as he turned back to the table. "I don't have a drink. One of those is just Rufus, taking a nap."  
  
"Rufus?" She grimaced, squatting down so the glasses were at eye-level.   
  
"Yeah," he said, eyeballing the cue ball experimentally as he imagined the shot in his head. "He goes all liquidy when he sleeps after those longevity treatments Wade gave him. Radiation, or something…Sometimes he would slip through cracks in the floor, or stuff like that."  
  
"So he sleeps in a glass?" She reached hesitantly for one of the glasses, then pulled back, looking between the two.  
  
"Glasses, bowls…whatever'll hold him."  
  
She considered the problem for a moment more, then shook her head and stood up. "Not gonna risk it." she decided, retaking her cue stick.  
  
"Hello?" Ron demanded, sending the white ball tumbling across the table in his frustration. "Are you listening to me?"  
  
"Every word, cute stuff." she told him, taking his foul shot and turning it into another point for herself. "Let's see if I have everything straight: You're angry at Kim for being so busy putting her new life in order that she doesn't have time to have a taco with you."  
  
"I…"  
  
"A life," Monique continued, standing up and giving him a pointed look and accenting it by pointing her cue at him, "Might I remind you, that 'you' encouraged her to take. She's busy working hard trying to put a career together, to save the day, and you're being fussy because she doesn't have quite as much playtime anymore."  
  
He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, trying to come up with a retort. Unfortunately, nothing was coming out of his flapping mouth.  
  
Moving in for the kill, she looked back at the table, lining up a new shot. "And now, after you almost blew up Russia and destroyed several millions of dollars in foreign experimental weapons' research, she asks you to stay out of the way, and you get all huffy at her." Sinking the eight ball and finishing the game, she looked up at him with a straight face. "So did I get everything right?"  
  
"Well, yeah…" he muttered, scratching his head. "But it sounds really stupid the way you put it."  
  
"Uh-huh." Sauntering over, she held her hand out expectantly. After a minute, Ron sighed and pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket, placing them in Monique's waiting palm. Giving him a grateful smile, she stowed her new money and offered Ron a comforting arm on his shoulder. "Look, Ron…You shouldn't take this thing personally. I mean, you never really liked the danger aspect of the saving-the-world thing, right?"  
  
"I guess." he shrugged.  
  
Squeezing him in an impromptu hug, she kissed him on the cheek. "So be happy for her, and be a little patient. I'm sure she'll come around after she settles down a little. Just be patient…"  
  
"Okay, okay." he sighed, hugging her back. "I guess I am overacting just a little…" he admitted begrudgingly. "I'll…give her a call tomorrow, or something." The sting of being 'fired' from the old team hadn't faded at all, but Monique had several good points. Despite what he had said, it 'was' hard to overlook the fact that he had nearly irradiated a good chunk of the former Soviet Union, an act that wasn't earning him any sidekick points.  
  
"That's better."  
  
His half-smile disappeared as he caught sight of his watch. "Oh man, I'm late!" he cried, tossing the pool cue onto the table and grabbing his jacket.  
  
As his smile shrunk, Monique's grew. "Does that mean you can't stay and be suckered out of a couple more bucks? I still have a couple books I need to pick up for class."  
  
"Sorry, gorgeous, but I can't." he rushed over to the glasses, immediately selecting the correct one and pouring the gelatinous mole rat into his cargo pocket. "I gotta get to work. First day on the job, and all."  
  
"Well." Monique put her hands on her hips, watching Ron collect himself in a hustle. "I never thought I'd see the day when Ronald Stoppable got himself work. Someone call the Vatican, 'cause the Apocalypse must be around the corner."  
  
His answer came in the form of another nasty face. "Very funny. My uncle helped me get a job downtown at a Restaurant to help me work off my debt." He caught her in one last hug, pulling away with an apologetic look. "Sorry to cut and run." he said, hurrying off.  
  
Now sure of which was hers, she picked up her lemonade and took a sip, smiling as he rushed towards the far exit. Just as he rushed out the right-side door, she saw a flash of orange-red enter through the door on the far left. "S'okay," she said to the far-departed Ron with a knowing smile on her face, raising her arm to flag down the owner of the red hair, "I think I just got my second customer for the evening."  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"-and he wouldn't even sit near me in lecture today." Kim complained, leaning against her pool cue.   
  
"Mm-hmm." Monique hummed, planting the eight ball into the center pocket and winning the game. "So he hasn't talked to you since you guys got back from Hong Kong?"  
  
"He wouldn't even ride in the same plane with me." Kim sighed dejectedly, pulling a few bills from her pocket and slapping them on the table. "I checked in with Wade…who isn't thrilled with me, either, but at least he's talking to me. He said Ron got home okay…only thing that kept me from going nuts with worry."  
  
"Yeah," Monique picked up the bills, then set about putting the table back in order for another game. "I'm sure Ron's just overreacting, anyway."  
  
Kim's face brightened as she watched Monique break in the new game. "Yeah!" she said with a nod, moving around the table and lining up her shot. "Ron's totally overreacting to all of this. I mean, he's the one that wanted me to take this stupid job with GJ anyway!"  
  
"Mm-hmm."  
  
"And he's been showing off on missions, too! Like he's all Jet Li, with a little Robin Williams thrown in for good measure." she added, neatly sinking a pair into the corner pocket. Grinning with triumph, she moved around, ready to put another of her striped set into the center pocket.  
  
"Yeah, that's not Ron-like at all." Monique rolled her eyes.  
  
"And those moves!" Kim added, sinking another shot. Apparently, fury helped her play pool. Monique was going to have to calm her down, or the game would be over before she even got another shot. "He goes off to Japan for the entire summer, to some 'summer session', or whatever," she put the words in quotes with her fingers, rolling her eyes. "And then he comes back and fights Shego to a standstill, and expects me to swallow some stupid story about him studying trig?"  
  
"Totally bogus." Monique nodded, folding her arms.  
  
"And how hypocritical can he be?" Kim stood up for a moment, too wrapped up in her tirade to play pool as she nodded from side to side, adopting a dopey voice. "'You aren't spending any time with me, Kay-Peeeeee.' I barely hear from him while he's over there, and he gets huffy when I'm away for a few days?"  
  
"What a jerk." Her friend shook her head, walking over with her lemonade to stand behind Kim as the heroine lined up her shot. "It's not like you've been ignoring him, or anything."  
  
The quip had the desired effect; Kim's cue went wild, scraping across the green felt and spinning her shot towards the wrong end of the table. "Um…yeah." Kim said, this time a little less certain.  
  
"And I'm sure you've been spending as much time with Ron as you can," Monique continued, glad for the chance to finally get into the game. She sunk one of her own balls, moving around the table to set up a new shot as she gave Kim a pointed look. "After all, he's been helping you out a lot lately, what with moving you in to two different places and all…"  
  
"Yeah…"  
  
"But you know Ron, always overreacting." Monique shrugged, shouldering her pool cue as she took another drink of her lemonade. "Remember that time he thought the guys on the football team were spreading those ugly rumors about you, and he ended up confronting the whole team?"  
  
Kim turned scarlet at the memory, recalling how Ron had dangled from the roof in nothing but his underwear for an entire hour because some of the team 'might' have been saying ugly things about her. In the end, it had turned out that Bonnie was the one starting the rumors, and even then it had been Ron who had quickly (and enthusiastically) put the kibosh on them. "Yeah…" she muttered.  
  
The glass hid Monique's smile as she finished off the sweet pink liquid. "Well, I guess he's always been like that. Flying off the handle for no reason, wanting to spend time with his best friend…feeling left out and worried, seeing her rush off into the face of danger with someone he doesn't trust." She leaned over, sinking two more perfect shots.  
  
With a sigh, Kim surrendered. Monique made several good, blatant points. Plus, she had been doing a lot of volunteer training with Will without second thought. It was just her nature; when she started something, she jumped in with both feet. If her destiny was to be a Global Justice agent, then she would be the best, end of story. However, all that training had cut severely into her 'Ron-time'.  
  
…and she missed her best friend.  
  
"Okay, okay…" she sighed, leaning against the table as she watched Monique make the rest of her shots flawlessly, ending the second game with the same outcome as the first. Monique's hand flapped expectantly, eliciting another sigh and a few more dollar bills from her. "I did sort of…'forget' a few things with Ron this last week. And I haven't exactly been there for him lately, but…Well, I've been busy."  
  
"Don't see why you need to be making excuses to me." Monique said lightly, looking as innocent as a newborn babe. "I was agreeing with you, remember?"  
  
"No, you weren't." Kim said in an accusing tone. "You were doing that thing where you get me to realize what a jerk I've been, and how I need to spend more time with my best friend who's helped me out a lot this week." Then she blinked, surprised at the force of the words that had just come out of her mouth.  
  
Monique let her stew for a few moments more, savoring the sight of the fabulous Kim Possible at a loss for words. Then she took the cue stick from her with a gentle hand, giving her an encouraging smile. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe…and this is just a theory, but maybe…you kind of take Ron for granted?"  
  
"What?" In spite of her previous words, Kim scoffed at this, placing her hands dangerously on her hips. "I do 'not' take Ron for granted!"  
  
"Okay." Monique held her hands up, warding Kim's anger off playfully. "All I'm saying is, if a guy did all the stuff Ron did for me, without asking a single thing in return except wanting to spend time with me…Well," she shrugged noncommittally, "I might even think he dug me, or something."  
  
This time, Kim's laugh wasn't sarcastic, but actually amused. "What? You honestly think Ron 'digs me'?" With a snort, she turned around, trying to wrap her head around the concept. "That's ridiculous! Ron just did the things he did because…" She stopped, turning around. The twitch at Mon's lips was hard to miss. "He did them because he's Ron." she sighed at last.  
  
"Mm-hmm." Monique nodded with a smug look of satisfaction.  
  
Kim was out-maneuvered, and she knew it. Still, it didn't mean that she couldn't put up a huffy, irritated front, just for tradition's sake. "Okay. Okay!" she threw her hands up. "I've been a little distant…and I was a little hard on him back at Hong Kong."  
  
The smugness hadn't vanished yet from Monique's features. "Mm-hmm." she hummed again.  
  
Her ire was shot down, visible as her shoulders sunk slowly. The woolen sweater hanging from her wiry frame deflated like a balloon. "I should call him, shouldn't I?"  
  
"Might be a good idea." Monique shrugged again, setting the pool cues down onto the table for the next set of players. "Might even be the smartest thing you've said all evening."  
  
"Point taken." The smile returned to Kim's features as she caught Mon in a friendly hug. "I'm gonna go home to call him right now."  
  
Mon watched her take a couple steps, hiding her secret disappointment; It pained her a little to know that she wouldn't get ahold of Ron for a while, what with him working, but she took heart in knowing that things were going to get better. Suddenly feeling very satisfied with herself she weaved her way through the pool tables and ping-pong setups, making for the juice bar set up in the darkened corner of the large room.  
  
"Another lemonade, please," she smiled at the bartender there, who was happy to fill her order after she slapped a few of Kim and Ron's hard-earned dollars onto the counter. "I think I've earned it."  
  
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	9. Dinner and a Show

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
WARNING! Kim Possible is not intended for ingestion. If swallowed, induce vomiting immediately and call your local Poison Control Center. Do not panic. Do not sue the author for unauthorized usage of characters, locations, etc. Use only recommended dosage (one chapter) as directed. Apply to eyeballs. Laugh and feel outraged as needed.  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Kim trudged through the doorway of her top secret, state-of-the-art, fancy one-bedroom flat and tossed her book bag aside miserably. Normally, the ever-mindful teen would have placed it neatly aside, preserving the inherent order of her spotless apartment. Though GJ bankrolled the finest cleaning staff for her and Will's convenience, the innate neatness her upbringing had instilled in her was hard to fight. But today, she simply didn't care…  
  
It had been the same story as the day before, except without classes to go to; Not a single blonde hair of Ron to be found anywhere near her, though not for lack of trying. Kim had called all morning until she was certain his cell phone's voice mail was completely full. She had checked all over campus: the bookstore, the student union, the gym, and at Bueno Nacho no less than five times. She had even gone to his apartment and pounded on the door for a quarter of an hour, until one of his neighbors threatened to call the police. And still…  
  
"Nothing." she huffed aloud, sinking into her leather sofa and staring at the blank TV screen. An entire day of searching, and all she had to show for it was a boatload of frustration and a pair of aching feet. "It's like he disappeared off of the planet," she groused to herself, kicking the edge of the sofa with her heel. "How am I supposed to apologize if I can't talk to him?" Naturally, the fabulous apartment didn't answer her.  
  
Sighing, she rolled over, once again staring at the blank monitor. A familiar shape pressed into her thigh from beneath her. That, with the empty screen, prompted a sudden thought. "Wait a minute!" she cried to herself, sitting up with a start. Frantically she began digging in her cargo pocket, laughing with triumph as she withdrew the black casing of her standard-issue GJ Communicator.  
  
Working purely from memory, Kim activated the device's wireless web, surfing through the quickest backdoors in her old site for a direct link to the Kimmunicator. "C'mon…c'mon…pick up." she urged the connection, hunching over the tiny device in anticipation.  
  
The screen hissed with static for a moment before clarifying with a flash. A second later, Ron's beaming face smiled back at her, prompting a small cry of victory. "Hey," he greeted her warmly.  
  
"Ron!" she beamed back at him. She was thrilled beyond words to finally see his face smiling at her again. "Ron, I've been trying-"  
  
"This is Ron Stoppable, former sidekick and savior to humankind in general." he continued, oblivious to Kim's happiness. It was only then that she realized it was a recording he left, probably for people calling for help. "Unfortunately for you," the message continued brightly to a morose Kim, "Team Possible is kaput. Hope your crisis isn't too crucial."  
  
Despite her disappointment, she couldn't help but smile at his classic Ron humor. But that smile disappeared as the message continued…  
  
"So if you need rescuing," he shrugged, "I suggest you call Global Justice and their newest big-headed, back-stabbing turncoat of an agent, and her thick-skulled, Russian-speaking trained monkey." The pleasant look never vanished from his face as he harpooned Kim with the cruel words. In fact, he seemed happier, letting the world know just what he thought of her! "Toodles!" he waved one last time before the screen shut down.  
  
Absently, through the rage that began clouding her vision with a haze of red, Kim became aware of two different noises, a creaking and a grinding sound in the background of her own ringing ears. The former came from her GJ Communicator, whose plastic casing strained beneath her rending fingers. "The latter of the two was coming from her own teeth, rolling across one another as her jaw clenched.  
  
"You little…rotten…" she breathed at the vanished message, trembling with anger. Her hands shook as she tossed the tiny black device over her shoulder in a fit of rage. Here she was, killing herself trying to find him so she could apologize, and he had the 'gall' to say those things about her?  
  
A voice from behind startled her from her anger. "If your Communicator is malfunctioning, we can always repair it." She saw Will standing in her doorway, tapping the former projectile against his palm. "They are expensive, so I wouldn't recommend throwing it away just yet."  
  
"Will!" she gasped, caught a little off-guard by his stealthy entrance. She must have left the door open, for he never would have entered unannounced otherwise. "I…I didn't hear you come in."  
  
"So I gathered." he said, approaching her tentatively. "I'm sorry if I surprised you. Is…everything all right?"  
  
"What? Oh," she said quickly, taking back her Communicator with a sheepish look. "The Communicator's fine, it's just…" She saw his calm, attentive features and had to catch herself before she said more than she wanted to. Sometimes Will seemed so easy to talk to, when it was just the two of them. "Nothing," she decided at last, "It's nothing."  
  
"Very well." He suddenly got an odd look on his face, an expression Kim couldn't recall ever seeing on him before. It looked vaguely like discomfort. "There, uh…There was another reason behind my visit." he admitted.  
  
"You mean besides to see me flip out?"  
  
He grinned along with her, easing the strange tension between them. "Yes," he chuckled softly, but then resumed the expression. Now Kim was even more convinced that he was nervous about something. But what could make Will Du nervous…short of a surprise inspection by Doctor Director, of course. "I, ah, was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat, perhaps?"  
  
Kim considered for a moment; it 'had' been a long, aggravating day, an she certainly didn't feel up to cooking. "Sure," she shrugged. Maybe they could go to Bueno Nacho. That way, if Ron was there, she could tell him exactly how funny his little message was.  
  
Will's face melted into reserved triumph. "Excellent!" he crowed, rubbing his hands together. "I've made reservations for us at The Fancy Truffle. We will depart in one hour, if that is enough time for you to prepare. Oh," he added, "I asked GJ Requisitions to provide you a suitable outfit. I hope it's to your liking."  
  
She blinked, head swimming as Will turned to exit quickly. "Did…Did I just say 'yes' to a date?" she asked, confused. The concept of Will asking her out was a little tough to wrap around, but she was trying valiantly.  
  
Will paused, turning around. His face had returned to its previous, uncomfortable state, mixed with something new; apprehension. "I believe so," he observed carefully, giving her a questioning look. "Was I suitably…smooth?"  
  
She saw the look he wore, and knew at once how others felt when she brought out the 'puppy-dog pout'. Besides, he had clearly put a lot of thought into the evening, and what harm could a single date do? "We'll save that question for the end, shall we?" she said coyly, putting him at ease with a 'come hither' stare.  
  
Will left excitedly, barely keeping the bounce out of his military step. Kim couldn't help but laugh softly at his excitement, wondering if he was standing outside of her door, pumping his fist and congratulating himself. Boys could be so stupid…  
  
With a sigh, she shut the door behind him, then turned and made for the stairs to her room. So preoccupied were her thoughts that she failed to notice the blinking light on her phone, announcing about fifteen messages that waited for her, all from the same number.  
  
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Ron trudged though the doorway of his cozy, self-funded, empty two-bedroom-one-occupant apartment and tossed aside his book bag miserably. The bag bounced against the cheap carpeting, landing in a heap like always. It matched the rest of the tone in the room: messy and laid back, which defined Ron to a 'T'. At the moment, though, laid back was the last thing he felt like, though he 'was' a mess.  
  
He sunk into his futon cushion with a sigh, ignoring the throbbing pain in his feet. It had been a long day of running around campus, searching for his best friend in vain. He had gone everywhere he could think of where Kim might have been; the gym, the bookstore, the student union…so focused was his search that he hadn't even gone to Bueno Nacho all day, despite his extreme burrito deficiency. He had even spent a good portion of his afternoon calling until he was sure Kim's voice mail was full.  
  
A jabbering down by his burning tennis shoes caught his weary attention. Leaning forward, he saw his cell phone wiggling in a pair of tiny pink claws down on the floor. "Hey, my cell phone." He took the device from Rufus, who was grateful to lose the weighty load. "Must have left it here…" he mused to himself.   
  
A tiny digital envelope blinked in the corner of the screen, but he ignored it for the moment. Any voice mail he had was probably from his mother, and she would only call to fuss over him and his financial worries. And speaking of which…  
  
He noticed the time on the tiny digital readout. "Aw, man!" he moaned, dropping back into the seat. Rufus scampered up his leg, chittering curiously as Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm gonna be late for work!"  
  
"Muh?" Rufus blinked his large, luminous eyes at his friend. "Find Kim?"  
  
Ron pocketed the cell phone as he ran for his room, already halfway out of his shirt as he called back, "No time now, buddy. I'll give her a call after work, maybe."  
  
Rufus climbed the back of the couch, watching Ron's clothes fly as the boy changed for work. The mole rat grimaced as Ron reemerged, dressed in a carefully-pressed black suit with a goofy red bow tie. "Wan Kim!" Rufus squeaked insistently, folding his tiny paws.  
  
The look on Ron's face soured for a moment. "I know what you mean, Rufus." Then he forced a smile onto his features, readying himself for the long shift ahead. "Besides," he added, "The Fancy Truffle waits for no man."  
  
The rodent seemed excited at the prospect. "Fancy Truffle, yeah!" he jumped up and down, squeaking enthusiastically.  
  
"Whoa, sorry bud." Ron scooped his little roommate up, setting him down on the counter. "You know I can't take you. Four-Star restaurants have this thing about rodents on their wait staff. Remember Chez Ron?"  
  
"Oh yeah…" Rufus nodded somberly.  
  
"Don't worry, Rufus. Mon's right…" He felt another wistful sigh coming on, and quickly stamped it out. He was tired of feeling bad about the whole situation, and Monique had the right idea; be patient, and talk things over with Kim. "She'll be around before you know it, and then things'll be back to normal."  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Shego tapped her foot impatiently, staring into the open fridge with a hunter's hungry eyes (and hungrier belly to match). She had already torn apart the rest of the henchmen's break room, but nothing remotely edible was forthcoming. Of course, considering the already-dilapidated condition that those slobs kept it in, she wasn't surprised.  
  
"Do we have anything in here that isn't COVERED in GREASE?" she snarled, nearly tearing the fridge door off as she slammed it shut. Sausage, donuts, ham, bacon…There wasn't anything even remotely appetizing 'or' good for her arteries in this wasteland of junk food and dumpy red jumpsuits.  
  
One particularly chunky henchman looked up from his Danish, speaking around a mouthful of crumbs. "What's wrong with our food?" he asked with quivering jowls.  
  
Before she could start listing, the lair's PA system came alive with a crackle of static. "Shego," Drakken's voice echoed, "Shego, report to my lab at once. I repeat, I need to see you in my lab immediately. That is all." The intercom hissed with silence for a moment, and then continued, "She'd better be quick about it. Lousy attitude of hers is really starting to wear my patience. Probably got it from that good for nothing, lazy…wait, why is that light still on? Is the button stuck again? Oh, for crying out-"  
  
'I hate that thing,' she thought as the PA finally quieted with a merciful burst of static. Shego stalked out of the empty break room, heading out into the empty corridor…  
  
…which was not so empty after all.  
  
"Good day, my dear." Señor Senior Senior stood directly in her path, hunched over his gold-tipped cane. He was swathed in the finest red silks, and leered at Shego with an expression that bore an uncomfortable resemblance to that of a buzzard examining a fresh carcass.  
  
Shego scowled, twisting to move around him. "Yeah, hi Pops." But his arm raised to halt her, keeping her in place and deepening her frown. "Uh, excuse me?" she shot sarcastically.  
  
"I wish to speak with you a moment." He placed a hand on her back, leading her in a slow gait down the hall. She bristled at his touch, but repressed the urge to tear his appendage off and feed it to him. "This partnership has benefited us all as of late. There can be no denying that." he stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"I hope there's a point to this…" she growled in warning.  
  
"I fear," he sighed, "That once presented with the prize, our fellow members will not be so cooperatively minded. Perhaps even I…" he paused, emphasizing his words with an unmistakable look, "I myself may be tempted to seize the fruits of our labor. And should that happen, I was wondering which side you would be on…"  
  
Her boots skidded against the metal plating as she halted suddenly. "You're kidding, right?" she asked him.  
  
"You were in my employ once," he reminded her. "And my son is very fond of you. There is no reason we could not come to an understanding, yes?" He watched her absorb his words, digesting them without expression. "Keep it in mind, my dear. I think you would find it a most prosperous and agreeable choice." And with that, he reversed his course, leaving her to walk in silence towards Drakken's lab.  
  
But she hadn't taken a dozen steps before another block stood in her path. Long and his cronies spanned the hallway shoulder-to-shoulder, dressed in simple red tunics and black slacks. Their arms were folded, their faces grim.  
  
Shego eyeballed the trio suspiciously as she approached. Somehow, she knew this was no accidental meeting. "What?" she asked waspishly, adopting a stance similar to theirs.  
  
"Shego," Long began neutrally, "We wish to talk to you about your loyalties to the Legion."  
  
"My loyalties," she snapped, "Are to me." She tapped her fist against her chest as she cut into them with a sharp glare. "And none of 'your' business, either!"  
  
The businessman nodded approvingly. "As are ours," he agreed. Claymore and Falchion gave their silent agreement as their leader said, "And unfortunately, I fear our allies feel likewise. So, I would ask that you think long and hard about which side you would find yourself on, should the unthinkable happen."  
  
Her eyebrows arched as she leaned back a fraction of an inch. "Is that a threat?" she almost laughed. The mirth in her voice was impossible to miss, but it was no concern of hers; the idea that those jar-headed sword jockeys could do anything to threaten her…well, it was hard 'not' to laugh, really.  
  
"Quite the opposite," he offered with an open gesture. "Roddigan Industries is always on the lookout for talented…individuals, such as yourself. We could see to it so you would never worry about money ever again."  
  
"But you'd never betray the team…now would you?" she asked suspiciously.  
  
"Certainly not." Claymore insisted.  
  
"Perish the thought." Falchion added.  
  
"No one is speaking of treachery." Long's eyes grew cold and hard as he added, "We are merely trying to prepare for 'every' contingency." He stepped aside with a gracious bow, his comrades soon following suit. "Merely food for thought, Lady Shego."  
  
Shego left them behind without a word, stalking down the hall and around a darkened corner with growing irritation. That feeling tripled as yet another obstruction stood in her way, keeping her in the dimly lit juncture.  
  
"We need to talk." Monkey Fist said crossly, his arms folded over his chest and brow heavy with unspoken thoughts. The dark hair and black tunic covering his body cloaked him in the shadows of the corridor, making him difficult to find unless he wanted to make himself known.  
  
Killigan stood next to him, sporting no such stealth in his gaudy vest/kilt combo and ridiculous hat. "Aye," he agreed.  
  
"Oi!" Shego slapped a hand over her face, grumbling inaudibly. "What do you two morons want?" she said between her fingers, afraid that she already knew the answer.  
  
"Assurances." Monkey Fist growled back, not backing down.  
  
"Tha's right!" Killigan stepped in, pounding a fist into his palm. "We're th' muscle of this li'l crew, and I don' think th' others take us seriously."  
  
"What do you expect when you wear a miniskirt with 'that' outfit?" Shego smirked. She watched Killigan's face turn fire engine red, pleased that she could push his buttons so easily. It might be the only amusement she got out of the day.  
  
"I's a-"  
  
"Not now." Monkey Fist clamped a hairy palm over Killigan's mouth as he glared at Shego. "You know we're right." he said with deadly seriousness.  
  
"Maybe." Shego allowed with a shrug. She leaned against the opposite wall, saying, "Why tell me about it?"  
  
"You're one of us," the stately warrior explained, removing his (now disgustingly damp) hand from the golfer's trap and wiping it clean. "A grunt. Hired help. Drakken doesn't take you seriously," he said, narrowing his eyes, "And I know that irritates you."  
  
"If ye side with anyone," Killigan warned her, "It should e wit' yet own kin." He tapped a meaty finger against her collarbone for emphasis, bristling at the beard and bushy eyebrows.  
  
"Mmm, okay, number one?" Her eyes poured daggers into him as she yanked his hand away from her green and black jumpsuit. "No. Touching. And second," she grimaced as she split her glare between the two of them, "Does ANYONE remember that we're all on the same side?"  
  
"We haven't." Monkey Fist assured her.  
  
"Bu' they might." Killigan said in no uncertain terms. "Tha's what we want ye t' be ready for, lass."  
  
"Tell ya what, 'laddies'," she growled, backing away from them. "I'll let you know before anyone sticks a knife in your backs, m'kay?" She left them without another word, picking up the pace to make up for lost time. The day was quickly going from bad to worse. All she needed now was…  
  
"Shego." A cornball accent coming from a fake goatee was waiting for her in front of Drakken's door.  
  
Great. Juuuuuust great. "Out of the way, Lucre." she sighed, walking right past him. Lucre was too much of a coward to stand in her way, but she was surprised when he snagged her shoulder as she passed.  
  
"Hold on a minute," he insisted, dropping the phony accent. "There's some business I wanted to discuss with-"  
  
"Lucre, pimples like you should think less about business and worry more about being POPPED!" She brushed his noodle grip aside, continuing on to the lab.  
  
His face immediately paled in terror. "Why? What have you heard?" he asked in a panic, wringing his hands as he ran to catch up. "I knew it! They're going to eliminate me, aren't they?"  
  
"No." she snapped angrily, ignoring him as she reached for the door control. "We're working together…though heaven only knows why." she added in a mutter.  
  
"If that's true," he asked, suddenly becoming smug, "Then why is Drakken siphoning money over from the Hydrofarm project?"  
  
The comment stayed Shego's hand just above the control. She looked back at the store clerk gone awry, searching his face for any sign of duplicity. "What are you talking about?" she asked with piqued interest.  
  
"I'm the best numbers man in this outfit," he bragged with pride, slipping his thumbs beneath the loop of his orange vest. "Drakken's been discrete about it, but I've got my hands on a nice little paper trail."  
  
"Of what?"  
  
"Invoices. Orders. Receipts. Drakken has spent millions of the Seniors' money, and I can guarantee it isn't going to Roddigan for the dome construction. It all spells one big double-cross." He smirked, as if proud of his little investigative accounting.  
  
  
  
"Fine. Good. What do you want me to do about it?" Shego barked in his face, growing so angry her fists flared to life with a deadly green glow.   
  
The sudden outburst wiped away any trace of arrogance he had left on his weasely little face. "I w-want you to work-k-k for me!" he whimpered, shielding his head with both arms.  
  
Her anger evaporated into incredulity. Had she heard him wrong? "Are…are you trying to be funny?" she asked, extinguishing her hands.  
  
Seeing that his life wasn't in immediate danger, Lucre calmed down a bit. "That's right," he nodded earnestly, "See, Drakken isn't the only one who can shift funds around." Leaning in, he added, "All the money I've saved with my penny pinching has gone straight into a series of carefully-hidden offshore accounts. Drakken's good, but I'm 'amazing'."  
  
"How much?"  
  
"Millions." he assured her. "And all I'm asking is that if things go screwy and one of them betrays us, you protect me instead of Drakken." He grinned at her.  
  
'Why me?' she rolled her eyes, throwing her hands helplessly into the air. "Fine. Whatever." she sighed.  
  
"Excellent!" he crowed. Then he cleared his throat, slipping back into his stupid accent as he arched his fingers. "I mean, Frugal Lucre is pleased that-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, ripping the adhesive strip of hair from his face as she punched the door control. Lucre fumbled with his facial hair as she tossed it over her shoulder, entering Drakken's lab.  
  
Drakken leaned against his expansive lab table, glaring at her with open irritation. Behind him, a vast array of tubes and vials dripped, slowly processing his lethal Bio-Terminator. It would still days before they had enough for their purposes, but the refit on the Soviet missile was going slowly anyway. "What kept you?" he demanded.  
  
"What do you want?" she shot back. She was in no mood for his attitude.  
  
"Shego, I don't trust the others."  
  
She blinked, keeping the belly laughter and snide remarks deep down to herself. "You don't say," she said dryly.  
  
He began to pace the length of the enormous table, raising a finger as he kept his other fist tucked behind him. "They all stink of treachery. Especially Monkey Fist…" he stopped, tilting his head in thought. "Although that could just be normal monkey-smell…" he cringed.  
  
"I can't say I blame you," she began examining her nails casually, throwing him a look. "You never know what 'secret' projects' they might be running behind your back."  
  
The comment had the desired effect; He froze, glaring at her. "What do you know?" he demanded.  
  
"What do 'you' know?" she countered. Her hands were on her hips as she smirked at her employer. "I'm sure Pops would love to know how you're 'really' spending his money."  
  
The mad scientist examined Shego for a moment, considering something. Finally he shrugged, keeping his tone neutral as he said, "Merely a precautionary measure in case Kim Possible should interfere. Or," he added darkly, "If one of our so-called 'friends' decides they don't want to work to the Legion's common good."  
  
"Ooh, sinister." she commented with a bored expression.  
  
Drakken's twisted, scarred visage scowled once more as he turned on her, waving a finger under her nose. "just make certain you keep your eyes open, Shego." he warned her.  
  
"Oh, believe me," she assured him, keeping a smug look from dominating her pale features, "My eyes are 'wide' open."  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The Fancy Truffle boasted a quiet, romantic atmosphere that no other restaurant in the tri-city area could hope to match. Located at the top of Upperton Towers high above the cityscape, it rotated slowly so its patrons could enjoy the view of gods to accompany their first-class cuisine. The establishment catered to a limited crowd, those rich or famous enough to afford the ambiance.  
  
And it so happened that a certain Global Justice agent with an expense account had developed a taste for the place.  
  
"Mr. Du!" the restaurant's owner rushed to greet one of his best customer. He was a portly man with a crisp tux, a bad comb-over and a bushy mustache, and tended to alternate between a light and a heavy French accent. He waddled to the pair entering his quaint rooftop restaurant, already sensing a new influx of government cash that brought a smile to his chubby features. "So nice to see you!"  
  
Will was dressed smartly in a dark blue suit with matching tie, looking like a million dollars as he traded greetings with the shorter man. "Jean Pierre, it's been too long."  
  
"I'll say. I have children to provide for!" The two chuckled together until Jean Pierre noticed the tagalong hanging near Will's arm. "And who is this lovely vision?"  
  
Kim was too busy taking in the sprawling room to notice she was being talked about. The opulence, the view, the delicious aromas…it was all overwhelming to her. Deep down, she still felt like a Bueno Nacho girl. But tonight, in the atmosphere of such luxury, she felt like a princess.  
  
She was dressed the part too; a tight black dress clung to her in all the right places, with a modest neckline and a sexy slit that ran up to mid-thigh. Her arms were covered in a pair of white satin gloves, and wrapped with the folds of a creamy silk scarf that was draped across the back of her neck. Her hair was done up in an attractive bun, held aloft with a clasp she had found waiting with her dress, featuring a trio of sparkling stones that she secretly hoped were real.  
  
"This is Kimberly Possible," Will introduced her formally (Kim was beginning to suspect that Will did 'everything' formally in public). "She's my new partner."  
  
"Mademoiselle," Jean Pierre took her gloved hand and delicately kissed her knuckles. "You have excellent taste, both in company and in dining."  
  
She blushed, feeling her face grow hot. "Th-Thank you," she stammered.  
  
"Come, let's find you a table near the window, shall we?" He led the young couple off across the gray carpeting, weaving between tables until they reached a cozy, candlelit corner for two pressed right up against the spotless plate glass. The city spun slowly beneath them, offering a clear view of the night life of Upperton. "I'll find your waiter at once," the owner told them graciously with a bow and a smile. Then he walked away, calling out with a far less amiable tone. "Ronald! Ronald, you lazy boy!"  
  
Kim allowed Will to pull her chair out for her, disentangling herself from the scarf as she sat down. Her eyes were glued to the skyline as she gasped, her breath stolen by the view. "It's incredible," she murmured appreciably.  
  
"Yes," he agreed, hanging his jacket from the back of his chair before seating himself. "Made even more so by the company, I think."  
  
Her blush returned, which she hoped he couldn't see in the dim glaze of candlelight. "You really 'are' smooth." she smirked, forcing her facilities back under control.  
  
"One of my talents," he grinned back, leaning forward. "One of many." His hand flicked forward, prestidigitating a rosebud from thin air. She gasped again as he handed the bud to her with a sly smile, and gently arranged it in her hair so it stuck out of her bun. "You look beautiful," he said as she finished her handiwork, gazing at her across the tiny candle flame.  
  
"Th-thanks." she stuttered, growing even warmer about the cheeks. It was surprising how quickly he had reduced a strong-willed, independent young woman to a pile of gibbering embarrassment.  
  
Lucky for her, their waiter chose that moment to toddle on over, saving Kim from further self-humiliation. She glanced gratefully over at the corn-topped attendant…and promptly did a double-take.  
  
"Good evening, folks," Ron greeted them amiably as he prepped his order pad, "Welcome to The Fancy Truffle. My name is Ron, and I'll be your server this evening." He looked up from the notepad, recalling the kitchen's specialties that night. "Today, the house specialty is holy crap…" He lost his composure, trailing off as he caught sight of his customers. "Kim?"  
  
"Ron?" she hissed, feeling a plethora of emotions swelling to the surface. Foremost among them was surprise; Ron, with a job? "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Working! What are you doing here?" he shot back in kind, gripping his pad so hard his fingers left indentations in every page.  
  
"Eating." Will said flatly, glaring at Ron. He seemed immensely irritated by Ron's sudden appearance. "Now, are you going to take our order or not?"  
  
"I…You…" Ron couldn't believe it. He had spent the entire day, busting his butt to find her, and she was on a date with none other than Will Du-fus. His teeth gnashed as he gripped the pad tighter still, taking the pen from behind his ear. "Fine," he said through a painfully forced smile. "Can I start you off with something?"  
  
Will suddenly smiled at Ron, giving the young waiter cause for suspicion. "Gazpacho soup sounds good. Kim?"  
  
"Uh," she was still reeling from the shock, trying to sort out her mixed emotions. "Soup sounds fine, I guess…" She let will pick the entrée as well, unable to force the words on her menu into focus.  
  
"Soup for two…coming up." Ron managed to get out between his teeth.   
  
He staggered off, leaving Will and Kim to ponder out the situation. Kim seemed confused, but her old annoyance with Ron was quickly returning. She had spent the entire day, busting her butt to find him, and here he was raking it in at some hoity-toity restaurant. "I can't believe it."  
  
  
  
"Well," Will shrugged with an odd smile on his face, "I suppose a career change was inevitable, wasn't it?"  
  
  
  
A few moments later, Ron came back with two bowls of red liquid on a round black tray, balancing them carefully with surprising grace. He set the bowls down in front of each of them, pulling away with exaggerated flourish. "Gazpacho soup for two. I'll be back in a few minutes with the rest of your order."  
  
  
  
Ron started to walk away, but stopped as Will called out, "Oh, waiter?" He returned to the table with a tight-lipped smile and a questioning look. Gesturing to the soup, Will said with a straight face, "Excuse me, but our soup is stone cold. I think there's been some mistake."  
  
  
  
"What?" Ron picked the bowl up again, feeling the cool porcelain press against his skin. "Oh. Um, I'm sorry…" He seemed sheepish and angry at the same time, and quickly took the bowls away before Kim even had a chance to dip her spoon in. "I'll take these back right away."  
  
  
  
Kim watched Ron disappear deeper into the restaurant with the two bowls, then shot Will a confused look. "Didn't you know that-"  
  
  
  
"Oh, I know." Will nodded, the strange smile still in place. "But I suspect 'he' doesn't."  
  
  
  
Will was proven right as an annoyed shouting match started up from the kitchen's double doors. A few moments of shouting later, Ron emerged from the doors with a sour look on his face, and the same two bowls of soup, untouched by the indignant, scolding chef. He set the bowls down in front of them with a loud *clank*, glaring spitefully at Will.  
  
  
  
"Say," Ron said in a mocking, sing-song tone, "Mr. Russian-expert…"  
  
  
  
"I'd hardly call myself an expert," Will said nonchalantly, blowing on his nails. He eyed the soup with disinterest, looking up at their waiter with a pointedly smug look. "Didn't you heat it up?"  
  
  
  
"Here's a fun fact; Gazpacho soup is served 'cold'. But I bet you knew that, didn't you?" Ron leaned over the table, trying to look menacing. Unfortunately, his hand squashed into the small tray of butter that had come with their complimentary bread.  
  
  
  
"I had no idea." Will said with conviction, keeping a straight face. He looked around Ron, inviting Kim to play along. "Kim, did you know that?"  
  
  
  
Kim was having a hard time keeping her laughter down. She covered her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking with silent mirth. Ron shot her a dirty look, but she shot one right back at him. She was still plenty peeved at him for the horrible message he had left on the Kimmunicator, and a little practical joke wouldn't hurt him any.  
  
  
  
"We'll take our main course when it's ready," Will told Ron, taking his spoon and dipping it into the soup. The real irony was, he possessed a taste for Gazpacho that went back to his first trip to Russia, several years back. When Ron continued to glare at the two, he arched an eyebrow. "Don't you have other tables to wait on?"  
  
  
  
Ron left with a grumble, allowing Kim and Will to share in muffled laughter. She felt a little better now that she had gotten her own dig in, and would apologize for the prank later. She was feeling a little grateful to Will, not only for the night out, but also for the opportunity to tease Ron a little.  
  
  
  
And then he did it again…  
  
  
  
"Excuse me?" Will eyed the meals Ron delivered them, snorting scornfully. "This isn't what we ordered." He gestured to the two steaks sitting in front of them, shaking his head. "No, this is all wrong."  
  
  
  
"What?" Ron flipped through his order pad, frowning. Kim couldn't help but frown, too. What was Will saying? Ron had gotten the orders spot-on. Finally finding the page, Ron pointed to it, showing Will the shorthand. "Look; two steaks, medium, with steamed vegetables.  
  
  
  
"You must have heard wrong." Will told him, his voice like velvety steel. "I said 'medium well,' with potatoes and carrots. This," he gestured to the assortment of greenery at the side of his supposedly undercooked steak, "Doesn't look like that order."  
  
  
  
The twitch at Ron's eye was a clear sign of the tidal wave of anger he was repressing. "Well then…" he said neutrally, avoiding the massive urge to pick up the steak knife and commit second degree murder, "I'll just take these back and fix the order."  
  
  
  
And again…  
  
  
  
"No, no, no. All wrong." Will insisted, gesturing to the steaks. "Does this look like medium well to you?"  
  
  
  
And again…  
  
  
  
"These are the limpest carrots I have ever seen." Will shot at Ron, as if it were his fault personally. He picked the plates up, handing them back forcibly. "I am not satisfied."  
  
  
  
Kim's stomach was rumbling. "They look fine," she pleaded, reaching for the plate.  
  
  
  
Unfortunately for Kim's stomach, Will had pushed Ron one plate too far. He threw the food down on the ground, shattering the dinnerware and spreading meat drippings all over his nice shoes. The restaurant suddenly grew quiet as Will stood up slowly, squaring off against Ron.  
  
  
  
"I've taken your food back 'twice' already." Ron jabbed a finger at the agent, growing red around the collar. "Stop screwing around with me, Du."  
  
  
  
"Is that a threat, Stoppable?" Will shot back, tearing the napkin from his collar and throwing it in Ron's face. Ron tore the cloth aside furiously, fumbling with the material before he worked it from his eyes. His hands curled into fists, aching for the chance to wipe the superior look from Will's face. He wasn't above taking a few teeth with it, either.  
  
  
  
Kim shot up in a hurry, putting herself between the two and laying a hand on each of their chests. "All right, guys, that's enough." She didn't want to see a fight break out between the two. Besides…she had been training with Will all week, and knew his fighting style inside and out. Compared with the amazing skills Ron had been fronting against Shego, she was afraid she was going to have a massacre on her hands.  
  
  
  
"You should listen to her, Stoppable." Will said in a low growl. "She doesn't want you to get hurt."  
  
  
  
Kim frowned at him. "That's not what I-"  
  
  
  
"Excuse me!" Jean Pierre rushed over, pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered around the two combatants. There were several muted cries of protest from some of the men observing, before their dates elbowed them back into line, as the owner forcibly pulled Ron away from the impending fight. "What is going on here?"  
  
  
  
"Jean Pierre," Will regained his composure almost instantly, smoothing back his ruffled hair. "We're having a little disagreement, that's all."  
  
  
  
"Oh really." He glanced back and forth between the two, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I believe I can handle this. Not to worry, Mr. Du, Ms. Possible." With that, he turned smartly to Ron and yanked the nametag from his lapel. "Ronald, you're fired." Then, just as quickly, he turned back to the pair, offering them an apologetic look. "I'm terribly sorry, we'll get this cleaned up and have a fresh set sent to you…gratis, of course."  
  
  
  
"F…F…Fired?" Ron said, jaw hanging in disbelief. "Y-your firing me? After what this-"  
  
  
  
"Ronald," Jean Pierre said sharply, not even turning around to face the boy, "Your uncle and I happen to be very close friends, so I'm sure we all would rather I not have to call the police to escort you off the premises, yes?"  
  
  
  
Ron's mouth flapped open a few more times as he tried to find his voice, but it had fled entirely. Trembling with rage, he tore the bow tie from his shirt and threw it onto the ground, then turned on his heel and stomped off. The crowd around them parted immediately; none of them wanted to even catch Ron's eye at the moment. None of them dared…  
  
  
  
Kim felt her stomach lurch as Will and Jean Pierre continued to discuss the incident in low tones. Suddenly, the prank wasn't funny any more. "Ron, wait!" she cried, running after him as best she could in high heels.  
  
  
  
She caught up to him just outside the restaurant, where he waited impatiently for an elevator to take him to the bottom of Upperton Towers. His foot tapped at a furious pace against the polished, gleaming tile, and his face hadn't drained of its bright red hue yet. He barely afforded her a glance before turning back to the metallic elevator doors, tapping his foot even faster as she approached.  
  
  
  
"Ron," she huffed, kicking aside her blasted heels and padding up to him barefoot. "Ron, I'm really-"  
  
  
  
"Awfully intense training, huh Kim?" he snapped with his back still turned to her.  
  
  
  
"What?" She had no idea what he was talking about, and said as much.  
  
  
  
It seemed just the opening he was waiting for. He whirled upon her, and Kim was horrified to find a man she didn't even recognize: He looked a little like Ron Stoppable, the boy she had grown up with, but his face was far to angry, and his voice was much too cold and sharp. "You know," he said snidely, "When you signed on for Global Justice, I didn't think they'd teach you to be a pompous jerk like Will."  
  
  
  
"Hey, look," she said, recoiling slightly from the attack, "I'm sorry about what happened in there, Ron, really, but-"  
  
  
  
"Stuff it. Stuff you, Kim." He couldn't even bring himself to call her 'KP' at the moment. "Ever since you moved into the Will-cave, you've been nothing but a snob and a jerk to me, and I've had it up to the cummerbund with it!" He tore the offending apparel off as if to prove the point, tossing it aside.  
  
  
  
"I've been distant? 'I've' been distant?" she heard her own voice rising now, totally out of her control as her own ire and indignation superceded the sympathy she felt for him. "Ron, ever since I joined, you've been treating me like I'm the enemy!"  
  
  
  
"Well, then I guess I've been treating you just about right, haven't I?" he asked snappishly. Usually when Kim was angry, he backed down quick, but not this time. He jabbed a finger at her, growing dangerously close to her face as he continued to shout, "You don't have the time for a decent 'hello' for me, but you clearly have plenty of time for Will."  
  
  
  
"Maybe it's because 'he' doesn't yell at me for doing something 'he' suggested. Ever think of that?" Kim retorted.  
  
  
  
Ron threw his arms out wide, looking up at the ceiling. "Well heck, Kim, I don't know why I was so worried about you, then. I guess I'll stop bugging you now that you've got a great replacement lined up for me!"  
  
  
  
"Will is 'not' your replacement!" she said heatedly.  
  
  
  
"No, of course not," Ron sneered. "You two are on a date. I guess that would make him an upgrade to the better model. It's no wonder you just dumped the old one as-"  
  
  
  
He never got the next word out as a flash of white struck him on the cheek, knocking his whole head aside. He blinked, wondering why the world was canted at such an extreme angle, or why his face suddenly hurt so much.  
  
  
  
"How. Dare. You." Kim said in a low, dangerous voice. "How 'dare' you accuse me of…of…of that!" Her body had lost all feeling, shaking with unadulterated fury as she faced him down. "I have stuck by you through some pretty dumb mistakes, Ron Stoppable…How 'dare' you accuse me of…of…"  
  
  
  
"Say it." Ron whispered. "Forgetting me?" He could no longer look at Kim, could not move his head since the blow. In all their years, in all the arguments they had ever had, even when she had been under mind control…Kim had never hit him like that before.  
  
  
  
The elevator arrived in a timely fashion, announcing itself with a cheery bell tone as the doors slid open. Kim glared at Ron wordlessly for a second. She could hear Will calling her name, his feet pounding against the floor. It would only be a moment before he arrived. "Go." she said, locking eyes with him.   
  
  
  
The word hit Ron like a jackhammer, knocking the wind from him as surely as an uppercut from her satiny glove would have. "Well…well fine!" he mustered his voice back, stumbling into the elevator. "Go on, then! Who needs you!"  
  
  
  
As the doors closed, Ron caught a glimpse of Will, standing some distance back. Ron could see an infuriating look of triumph on the agent's features before the doors mercifully slid shut, leaving him all alone.  
  
  
  
He sunk back against the wall of the elevator as it began its descent. His stomach lurched, but it wasn't any side effect of the acceleration. Tears were welling up in his eyes as he clutched at his hair, curling up in the corner.   
  
  
  
He drew his knees to his chest, forcing his tears into the folds of his pants. "I do…" he murmured.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"I'm really sorry I ruined the evening, Will." Kim said tonelessly as they stood outside of her door. She felt nothing inside, as if a large block of ice had replaced all of her organs, choking her, freezing her, making her feel horrible.  
  
He fidgeted uncomfortably, trying his best to appear at ease and failing miserably. "No," he shook his head, "I should be the one to apologize. I…"  
  
"What you saw back there…" Kim sighed, closing her eyes before any of the tears she was holding back could escape, "Well, I guess it was coming. It was just a matter of time."  
  
"I must admit, even I was a little surprised…" he offered gently, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.  
  
She offered him an encouraging smile that she did not feel in the least. All she wanted to do now was to go to bed, and pretend that the night had never happened. "Me too…" she said dully. Her voice sounded hollow in her own ears, like the tinny tones of a useless doll. "Well…goodn-"  
  
"Kim." His voice was pleading, even desperate, as his hand stayed its place on her arm. "There…there was a reason I asked you to dinner tonight. It may be the wrong time, but…"  
  
"Is everything all right?" She prayed that it wasn't another crisis. Was he kicking her out of GJ for all the trouble they had been having with Ron? "Will?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
The ice inside of Kim cracked with the force of the words. He had spoken so quickly, so murkily, and yet she knew it was no joke. The cold drained right out of her, leaving in its place a terrible void that tugged at her very soul. "W-what?"  
  
"I'm sorry." he apologized profusely, taking her hands in his. "I know this is the worst time to bring it up, but…I feared that if I didn't say it, I would burst."  
  
"What are you talking about?" she asked in a slightly fearful manner. "You…"  
  
"Love you, yes." he said hurriedly. "I…As I said, I have been watching your career, your activities…you…for quite some time. At first, I was envious. Then, I grew accepting. Then I admired you. And from that…" He shrugged helplessly, looking at her with round, soulful eyes.  
  
If there was anything she didn't need at the moment, it was definitely this. "Oh, Will," she murmured, looking apologetic. "I…"  
  
His finger found its way to her lips, silencing her. "Please," he begged, "Do not answer now. I realize that with everything that happened tonight…well," he said, "I can understand how it would take some time."  
  
She didn't know what to say, though she felt herself nodding and giving him a tiny smile. It was as if she was watching the scene play out from a great distance. Something warm and slightly moist brushed her cheek, and it was only as Will walked away that she realized it had been his lips. With clumsy hands, she fumbled her door open, collapsing on the other side once it had closed behind her.  
  
Kim felt herself falling, and collided with the floor without a sound. Her back leaned against the door as she reached up with a shaky hand, pulling her hair free of its bun. The beautiful beret hung uselessly in her limp grip as she stared at the glittering stones, unable to move, unable to think. Her face stared back at her, refracted in the center stone, and beside it, two other faces haunted her in the other gems…different faces, but all-too familiar.  
  
With a shuddering sigh, Kim let go of her emotions at last, feeling the turmoil pour out of her in thick, salty streams that smeared her careful makeup. Though she was utterly exhausted, she knew that sleep would not come to her that night.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 


	10. Mother Knows Best

=All-Porpoise Disclaimer=  
  
Kim Possible is not a marine mammal. As such, she possesses no blow hole. Neither does she have fins of the dorsal 'or' ventral variety. Ron, though he certainly has tuna for brains and is very playful, is likewise not a dolphin. In fact, none of the characters in Kim Possible live under the sea, fabulous though Sebastian the Crab makes it sound via song. Rufus, though, with his newfound ability to morph and go all Jell-O™-like, is another matter. Who knows what he can do?  
  
=Rating Notification=  
  
The rating of this fanfiction has been upgraded to PG-13 for use of the word "bra".  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
===============================================================================  
  
The door to Ron's apartment burst open, allowing the pair of stumbling teens to spill out into the dingy, yellowing hallway. Their laughter rang in short, shrieking gasps as, arm in arm, they somehow managed to stay on their feet. Both kept a tight hold on a large bottle of clear liquid, lest the precious container slip from their grasp.  
  
Kim gently wrestled the vessel from Ron's grasp, taking a long swig. The liquid tasted vaguely of raspberries, and burned the entire way down. "Oh, man," she coughed, wiping her mouth as she handed it back to Ron, "This stuff is awful!"  
  
"I thought you'd like it," Ron grinned, then took a hit of his won. Between the two of them, the bottle was nearly empty. "I knew you had a thing for raspberries, anyway."  
  
"And just how is that?" she slurred, putting her hands on her hips as she tried to decide which Ron in front of her to get angry against. They seemed to multiply with every drink she took.  
  
"Simple," he said, blinking one eye at a time as he stared warmly at his best friend. "I know you better than anyone."  
  
"Do not," Kim said just to be contrary. After all the grief Ron had given her lately, he deserved a little in retaliation. Her balance began to falter, so she placed a hand on the disgusting wallpaper to keep upright. The other hand she gainfully employed in taking the bottle from Ron, which he released willingly.  
  
Ron's grin became devilish as Kim proceeded to empty the bottle. "Oh yeah?" he asked coyly, reaching around her back. "Anyone else know your size?" He snapped her bra strap, causing her to spit up a mouthful of liquid and cloud the air with a haze of alcohol.  
  
"Ron!" she choked, slapping his arm as he dissolved into peals of laughter. She couldn't help but laugh, too, until she took notice of their inventory. "Now look," she groused half-heartedly, "It's all gone." She turned the bottle upside down to prove it, letting the last few drops drizzle onto the carpet.  
  
Ron took the bottle, pressing it to his face as he examined it thoroughly. Kim couldn't help but laugh at his distorted features through the glass of the bottle as he searched in vain for some secret cache within the tiny confines. Finding none, he tossed it aside, letting the bottle clonk onto the floor uselessly. "S'oh-kay-pee," he slurred, putting an arm around her shoulder as he led her down the hall. "My uncle keeps a pretty decent stash down in the basement."  
  
Together, the duo staggered into the apartment's stairwell and began their descent. Ron produced a flashlight from somewhere and lit the way, for it was very dark all of a sudden. Kim's eyes searched in vain for a light switch, but she wasn't too upset when there wasn't one to be found; as long as she stuck close to Ron, things would be okay.  
  
The stairs stretched ever downward, patterned in a circle and disappearing into that blackness which Ron's flashlight couldn't breach. At some point, the railing simply stopped, leaving Kim to cling to the wall lest she slip over the edge. "This is a really deep basement," she heard herself say. The only response she heard was her own echo as Ron silently urged her onward.  
  
At last the stairs gave way to a dark, murky floor. Kim was relieved to step onto the solid ground, which felt gritty beneath her feet. Her head still felt fuzzy from the alcohol, but she managed to follow Ron's beam around the room. It was a large, square room, but curiously empty. She would have expected a boiler, or pipes, or something. The walls were black and featureless, composed of the same gritty stone they now stood on. The place had an eerie feel to it, like a crypt, or a catacomb.  
  
"Over here!" Ron exclaimed, leading her by the hand as he shined his flashlight on a niche in the wall that hadn't been there a moment ago. It was small, and not very deep, so Kim wasn't surprised that it had escaped her notice in the pitch-black room.  
  
Kim's head began to clear as Ron led her further into the room. A cold chill seeped into her bones, bringing with it something she usually didn't feel; fright. "Ron, I don't-"  
  
Ron's arm jerked her forward as they reached the niche, slamming her into the small opening and against the obsidian stone beyond. Her teeth rattled as she struck the wall, filling her vision with stars. Through the pain and confusion, she could feel something cold wrapping around her wrists and ankles.  
  
The agony subsided quickly, leaving her with a clear, pounding head. She tried to rub her eyes, but couldn't; something stayed her hands, binding them close to the wall. As she tried to move, she heard a metallic clanking noise, and felt the cool kiss of metal tying her back. "Ron," she moaned into the darkened room, "Ron, where-"  
  
"Right here, Kim," came the cold reply. Suddenly Ron's face appeared in a column of light as he held the flashlight beneath his chin. His face held a fierce quality, almost demonic, as he sneered at her. "Everything okay?"  
  
"Ron, what's going on? Is this a joke?" She pulled fiercely against the chains, but they were too solid. "This isn't funny!"  
  
"This is no joke." he said, keeping the smile in place as he set the flashlight down. By this time Kim's eyes had adjusted to the dark. She could see a pile of masonry sitting at Ron's feet, and a tub of cement that was already mixed. "This is payback," he growled, picking up a trowel and a brick.  
  
Kim's blood ran as ice as Ron set to work, laying a row of bricks at the mouth of the niche. She panicked, pulling and tugging at the chains that bound her, screaming at the top of her lungs. Ron screamed right back, pounding his trowel against the wall with an unholy wail until he drowned her out, and she fell silent.  
  
Tears flowed openly on her cheeks as she watched Ron lay brick after brick. Her muffled blubbering was ignored as he whistled a happy tune, putting up two more rows in no time at all. The wall he was building was already up to her knees by then. "Why are you doing this?" she whimpered.  
  
He looked up, pausing for a moment as he stood and brushed his hands clean. "Why?" He leaned in, looking at her thoughtfully. "That's a good question, actually. There are lots of good questions we never get the answers to, don't you think?" Before she could answer, he launched, "Why didn't you ever notice me? Why didn't you care about me?" His voice remained calm, as if he was discussing recent weather.  
  
"I do care!" she insisted, straining against her shackles as he returned to his work. "Ron, please!"  
  
He kept laying bricks, ignoring her completely. Though is voice continued on, it was clear he was only talking to himself. "Why didn't she see how much she hurt me?" he asked, shaking his head. "Why was she always ignoring me?"  
  
"Ron," she moaned, collapsing against the wall. She couldn't stop the bitter tears now, no matter how hard she tried. "Please, let me go," she begged, "I love you!"  
  
The words surprised both of them into a sudden silence. Ron's masonry stopped for a second time as he looked up in wonderment, his eyes shining in the dark. Kim felt a small glimmer of hope, but it quickly faded as he spoke in a soft hurt whisper. "She really believes that, doesn't she?" he asked himself before continuing on in his gruesome task.  
  
Kim grew desperate as the wall now reached her waist. "Ron," she cried weakly, sagging into a fitful, weeping stupor. "Please…"  
  
"She doesn't love me," he repeated to himself, adopting it as a sort of mantra. "She doesn't love me. She doesn't care about me. She never has. All she loves is herself."  
  
"I love you," she whimpered again, watching the wall rise even with her chin.  
  
Ron's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he poked into the niche, screaming, "LIAR!" She sobbed even harder as he continued to pile the bricks higher and higher. The light seeping into her tomb steadily waned, though Ron left a small break in the wall at her eye-level so she could hear him ranting and foaming. "You ONLY love YOURSELF! You never cared about anyone, and now you just toss me ASIDE!"  
  
The wall was complete now, save for the single space he had left open. She watched in horror as a single, chocolate eye appeared in the gap, staring at her hatefully. Her panic renewed itself as she reached out for him, stopped just short by the chains. She shrieked and sobbed and struggled with all of her might, but it was all for naught.  
  
"Ron," she pleaded one last time.  
  
His words would haunt her for the rest of her life, however long that would be. His voice burned into her mind, low and haunting, possessing a serenity that scarred her more than any amount of shouting or screaming ever could.  
  
"You shouldn't have played me, KP."  
  
He stared at her a moment more before his eye slid aside. A brick rose in its place, cutting away the last of her light and leaving her to drown in the ocean of pure black. She screamed and gasped, thrashing about, she had to get free, had to get out, she felt trapped and alone, why, why, why was this happening, why-  
  
Kim Possible jerked awake with a gasp, almost toppling out of her chair as the world spun around her. She was covered in a thin sheet of sweat, and could feel her pulse pounding in her ears.  
  
With an irritated sigh, her literary teacher looked down the rows to glare at her seat in the back. He was a tall, dreary looking man dressed in black, with dark, greasy hair and an even darker outlook on life. "Is there a problem, Ms. Possible?" he asked snappishly.  
  
Regaining her senses, Kim looked about with a light blush at her cheeks. Her teacher and the rest of the class were all staring at her with mixed emotions, ranging from irritation to concern to amusement. Beneath her lay a drool-covered book of collected Poe stories that had served as her pillow during the accidental nap.  
  
Though embarrassed, she wasn't surprised at her lack of focus. Sleep had eluded her for much of the past week. Even worse, it punished her with horrible nightmares whenever she did manage to catch it, making for a fitful five days.  
  
"Sorry, Professor," she apologized awkwardly, rubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes. The educator returned to his monotone lecture with an indignant sniff, leaving Kim to dwell alone on the disturbing menagerie that had been her dream.  
  
'What was that all about?' she wondered, scratching her head. And why had she said what she did? Those three words buzzed in her brain, going round and round in circles. 'I love you. I love you.' She had never said that to Ron for as long as they had known one another. She hadn't even spoken to him all week! What would make her own mind say something like that to a Ron that didn't even exist?  
  
She knew Ron would be there at her Physics lecture, which was her next class. After such a dream, she couldn't stand the thought of facing him, though at this point, any contact would probably be accidental anyway. Still, even seeing him now would just confuse her more. She needed to get away…  
  
As the professor dismissed his class, Kim reached for her Communicator, intent on calling the only other people she could talk to anymore.  
  
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"And so you see, that's how we defy the laws of thermodynamics and create perpetual energy!"  
  
Ron could hardly pay attention to Wade's virtual lecture as the thirteen-year-old genius regaled his class with stories about his freelance work in commercial engineering. The complex diagrams hardly registered to his bleary, bloodshot eyes as he stared straight ahead, unable to think and uncaring about what it would mean for his grade.  
  
Wade looked to his left, checking up on his monitor. "Whoops!" he said, deleting the schematics for his revolutionary new power source from the big screen, "It looks like I've kept you guys a little later than I should have. Go on, now!"  
  
With a bone-weary sigh, Ron stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He hadn't even bothered to take notes that day, which would probably get him in trouble later. It had been like that all week, since the psychotic episode at The Fancy Truffle. Well, so much the better. What was one more thing?  
  
His uncle had been furious with him after he found out Ron had been fired two measly days since he had gotten the job. Apparently, Don and Jean Pierre went way back, and the portly restaurateur had expressed a great deal of disappointment in Ron…so much so that his uncle was deaf to Ron's pleas for an extension. Come the end of the month, he would be asked to pay both halves of the rent, and he only possessed one. Family or no, money was always money to Uncle Don. He would have to go somewhere else. The only trouble was, he didn't have anywhere to go.  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"Hey Ron!"  
  
And more bad news was awaiting him at the top of the stairs, waving to him frantically behind the last row of seats. He glanced dejectedly at the pair of faces, and wondered if he could convince Wade to invent a device to catapult him off of the face of the planet. At the moment, it seemed a more attractive prospect than talking to anything that reminded him of…her.  
  
Jim and Tim ran forward as the lecture hall emptied out, looking concerned and upset. "Ron, what's the deal?" Jim asked.  
  
"Yeah, man," Tim added, eyeballing their surrogate big brother, "You look terrible."  
  
Ron looked down at his wrinkled, three-day-old clothes. Rufus' head emerged from the tattered pocket, nodding vigorously up at him as if to agree. He scowled, running his hand over a week's worth of baby-fuzz stubble. "So?" he asked tiredly. "S'not like I'm trying to impress anyone."  
  
Jim approached him, but then stopped short, cringing as he waved a hand in front of his face. "And you smell-"  
  
"-just awful!" Tim finished, mimicking his brother.  
  
"Yes, thank you fashion police." Ron grabbed them, spinning them around and giving them each a hearty shove. "Now if you don't mind, I have some very important wallowing to do."  
  
"Wait a sec!" Jim cried.  
  
"That's not why we wanted to talk to you!" Tim added.  
  
Ron stopped, folding his arms as he leaned against the back of the row of chairs. "Okay," he said disinterestedly, "What?"  
  
The pair hesitated only a second before speaking in unison. "Have you heard from Kim lately?"  
  
Ron blinked as he absently wondered if it was the 'entire' universe that was out to get him, or just his small corner. "No. Thanks. Bye." He tried to leave again, but the twins simply spread out, blocking his way.  
  
"This is serious!" Tim insisted. "We haven't heard from her all week-"  
  
"And she won't pick up her phone-"  
  
"Or answer any of our messages."  
  
"She won't even talk to mom and dad…" Jim finished sadly.  
  
What was that? Kim, dropping off of the face of the earth? The pettier part of Ron whooped and hollered, jumping up and down in its lonely corner of his mind. The rest of him, however, experienced a large, annoying swell of concern. Luckily, he was able to ignore it, and pay more attention to the first little guy. Ron figured 'he' had the right idea.  
  
"So? Why come to me?" he grunted. "Kim's probably jetted off in her fancy new hoverjet with little Willy Doofus. They're probably in Vegas getting hitched as we speak. Why should I care?" He hefted his backpack, scooting around the pair with a bitter huff. "Now scat. Don't you two have a Doublemint commercial to do, or something?"  
  
The twins' faces drooped so badly that even Ron, in his solo state of self-pity, couldn't help feeling guilty. "Come on, Ron…" Jim said.  
  
"It's not like that…" Tim added heartfully.  
  
With a sigh, Ron dropped his pack and turned around, ruffling the pair about the head and messing up their hair. They protested, but the smiles returned to their faces as he said, "I'm sorry, guys. It's just…been a rough time with Kim lately. Among other things…"  
  
The boys suddenly brightened, sharing a spontaneous idea. Part of Ron grimaced inwardly, recognizing the look in an instant; it usually came before the Possible twins tried to put together something that exploded, burned, vaporized, melted, or otherwise destroyed a good portion of the landscape. He had lost track of the number of times one of their inventions had forced him to re-grow his eyebrows.  
  
"Why not come over to dinner tonight?" Jim asked?  
  
Red flags immediately waved behind Ron's eyes as his suspicions were confirmed. Dinner at the Possible house? "I don't know if that's-"  
  
"Aw, who cares about Kim?" Tim interjected with a wave, totally contradicting their case a moment ago. "She won't be there."  
  
"Besides," Jim said excitedly, "Mom's been moaning and complaining about how empty the house is without," and he adopted a motherly pose and tone, "Our little Kimmie around."  
  
"Yeah, she's totally been going Empty Nest Syndrome on us." Tim groaned. He looked pleadingly to Ron, and his brother soon followed suit. "Please Ron?"  
  
"It'd be a big favor to us-"  
  
"-letting mom fuss over someone else for a while."  
  
Rufus burst from Ron's pocket, scampering up the boy's shoulder and pleading right into his ear. The mole rat distinctly remembered dining conditions at the Possible house, and since Ron had been too depressed to cook anything good all week, he wanted that food. "Pleeeeeeease?" Rufus begged, tugging on his ear.  
  
"Well…" A home cooked meal did sound good. Besides, his parents were away on business. Where else was he going to go? "Okay."  
  
"Hoo sha!" the boys high-fived one another, then grabbed Ron about the shoulders and led him from the hall in such a hurry that he barely snagged his book bag.  
  
"But let's stop by your place," Jim said, holding his nose.  
  
"Yeah, just to freshen up." Tim added, mimicking his brother.  
  
With a roll of his eyes, Ron reluctantly agreed. "Sure. My motorcycle's parked just around the corner."  
  
This time, the glint of excitement in the twins' eyes was more intense than ever. "Motorcycle?" they harmonized with a grin.  
  
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Kim sighed contently as she leaned back from the table, pushing her plate away. Her belly was pleasantly full, and her heart ached a considerable amount less. "Thanks, Mom. That was great."  
  
Her mother smiled back at her from the kitchen counter as she set about chopping vegetables for dinner. "Just some leftover pasta," she said with a modest shrug, "Are you sure you can't stay for dinner, dear? We're having stew." She motioned to the tantalizing array of carrots, potatoes and peppers before her, with a whole slew of other ingredients just waiting to be added.  
  
The heroine's mouth watered at the thought of her mother's homemade stew, but she remained steadfast. "Wish I could," she apologized sincerely, "But I have training tonight with Will. Maybe…" she added coyly, twisting a lock of hair between her fingers, "You could send some with Jim and Tim the next time they head for the campus?"  
  
Her father laughed from his chair right next to her. He put his paper down with a grin. "What's the matter," he asked wryly, "Isn't Global Justice feeding my daughter well enough?"  
  
"Never mind him, dear." her mother said, rinsing her hands off in the sink as she prepared to add the meat. "We're just glad to see you. We've hardly heard from you since you went off to college."  
  
The motherly guilt was unmistakable and, as always, worked like a charm. "I've been busy." she explained with a touch of defensiveness. "But I'll try to get back home more often."  
  
"Always glad to have you," her mother assured her with a kiss to her scalp before returning to her enormous stewpot. As an afterthought, she added, "And bring Ron along, too. We haven't heard from him at all."  
  
"Yes," her father agreed cheerfully, "How is Ronald?"  
  
Kim blanched at the name, swallowing hard. "Uh, yeah…Ron." she mumbled, sinking down into her seat.  
  
Her father frowned and leaned forward. "Kimmie, is there something wrong?" His face fairly dripped with fatherly concern. "You can talk to us about anything, you know that."  
  
"How do you know when you're in love?"  
  
The blurted question exploded from Kim's lips, striking Mister-Doctor Possible with all the force of a cannon shell. He slumped back into his seat, looking as though the very essence had been drained from his body. He looked at her as if from a great distance, blinking rapidly. "Are we talking about the love a woman has for a fine chocolate?"  
  
"No, dad." Kim said with a mixture of worry and annoyance. She wondered if it was her imagination, but she could have sworn that his hair was turning even grayer by the second.  
  
"Great movie?"  
  
"No, dad."  
  
"Favorite spoon?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"Dad!" she huffed, clutching at the hair near her temples. "It's a guy, okay?"  
  
Mr. Possible blinked a moment more, considering the new information. The brilliant gears in his mind were twisting and turning, processing the best course of action in a horrific situation such as this. Finally, he chose the path that any great father would take in the same situation.  
  
"Tag." he said to his wife, looking in her direction with a pleading expression.  
  
She was drying her hands with a broad smile, as if she had already expected this. "Watch the stew, dear."   
  
Her husband jumped obediently to his feet, moving towards dinner preparation with great gusto. Considering the alternative, it wasn't hard to imagine his enthusiasm. In the meantime, Mrs. Possible sat down next to her daughter, laying a hand on Kim's as comfortingly as she could.  
  
  
  
"Why don't we start from the top, dear?" she suggested softly.  
  
  
  
Taking a deep breath, Kim launched into a ten-minute version of the three weeks since moving out of Middleton: Drakken's incursion (which her father gladly added his two cents to, since he had been at the horrible ordeal), her first meeting with Will, 'their' first mission, her fight with Ron… By the time she was finished describing that awful night at The Fancy Truffle, she was nearly in tears again. She deliberately left out her awful dream in class, hoping to avoid another 'worried-mom' guilt trip.  
  
  
  
Once her daughter's story was finished, Misses-Doctor Possible nodded appreciably. "That 'is' quite the situation, isn't it?"  
  
  
  
"I don't know what to do anymore." Kim sighed, letting her head drop onto the cool wood of the tabletop. She buried her face in her arms, hoping to stem the fresh tide of tears that stung in her eyes. "Will's been great, but I totally don't know what to say, or do. And that Ron thing…"  
  
  
  
"Well," her mother said slowly, rubbing Kim's back with a soft hand, "How do you feel about Will? Do you-"  
  
  
  
"No!" Kim shot up indignantly. She calmed an instant later, getting hold of herself as quickly as she could. "I mean," she started again, this time more collectedly, "We just started working together. He's sweet and all, but…it's too soon to know anything like that."  
  
  
  
"But there might be something." her mother sensed aloud.  
  
  
  
"Yeah. Maybe. I dunno." Kim admitted sullenly. "He's smart, and cute, and dedicated, and…He's everything I could ever want in a guy. I dunno," she said again with a helpless shrug, "Maybe if I try, something will…click, or something."  
  
  
  
Mrs. Possible smiled sweetly at this, confusing her daughter even further. "Honey," she said reluctantly, "I don't think anything ever just 'clicks' if you try hard enough. Either it does, or it doesn't."  
  
  
  
"Well," Kim countered with a sniff, "How did you know Dad was the one for you?"  
  
  
  
She leaned back into her chair, her grin growing as memories flooded through her mind. "Oh, that's easy." Mrs. Possible murmured, lacing her fingers together. She looked to her daughter, her eyes growing misty as she retreated further and further back in time. "You see, when I met your father, I was dating a young, wealthy, well-to-do student at Upperton…"  
  
  
  
"Kenny Maddox." her father's voice piped in from across the kitchen, carrying with it just a hint of bitterness. "Layabout pretty boy, if you ask me."  
  
  
  
"Oh, he was handsome," his wife nodded, recalling his hard, chiseled features with a warm smile. "And he made quite the boyfriend. There was this one time-"  
  
  
  
"Ahem." Mr. Possible grunted softly, stirring the pot with an unusually loud clank of the wooden spoon.  
  
  
  
"Anyway," her mother jumped ahead, "He wasn't the only one vying for my attention. There was another certain young scientist at the same grad school…he was good-natured and kind, if a bit clumsy at times." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she stared dreamily at the man she had married. "He had a sweet smile, and we actually became quite good friends."  
  
  
  
"So, that was when you knew you wanted to marry Dad?" Kim asked hopefully, wary of any more mush spilled her way.  
  
  
  
"Oh, heavens no!" her mother shot up with a snort. "I was head-over-heels in love with Kenny-"  
  
  
  
"Good-for-nothing playboy!" Mr. Possible added again, giving the stew another angry stir. His jaw was clenched unnaturally tight at the memory of his old rival.  
  
  
  
"So what happened?" Kim asked in a hushed tone. Suddenly, the story had captured her interest. It wasn't every day a daughter found out her parents had actually been…well, not-parents at one time.  
  
  
  
"Well, one night, a group of us went out for a night on the town. There was myself, Kenny, your father, and a few others from our respective fields. Anyway…" she continued, leaning in close.   
  
  
  
Kim did the same, suddenly seeing her mother in a new light; it was as if she were Kim's age, gossiping about this and that boyfriend in hushed tones at a slumber party. The teen couldn't help but smile.  
  
  
  
"…we all ended up at the park, sharing a couple bottles of…um," she suddenly turned scarlet, averting her eyes a moment. "Never mind the refreshments," she told Kim, whose smile had doubled. "We were sitting by the lake, when suddenly, Kenny stands up on this bench and announces that he has something very important he just 'had' to ask me."  
  
  
  
"He didn't."  
  
  
  
Mrs. Possible nodded excitedly as Mr. Possible grew even tenser. "He jumped down from the bench, landed on one knee in front of me, pulled out a little black velvet box, and asked me to marry him right then and there."  
  
  
  
Kim blinked, taken aback. She had never known her parents' lives had been so…dramatic. She pictured them as the rather bland people she had known her entire life…though maybe that was just one aspect, and she had never noticed the rest. "What did you do?"  
  
  
  
"Well," her mother said, "I was about to say yes, when something amazing happened." She stood from her seat, sauntering over to her husband with a sly smile as she said, "I caught your father's eye, and I saw…"  
  
  
  
"What did you see?" Kim asked, unable to bear the wait. "What?"  
  
  
  
She slipped her arms around her husband's waist, chasing away his insecurities with a kiss to his cheek. Turning back to her daughter, she said, "I saw my future."  
  
  
  
"Your…future?" Kim asked. She hadn't been expecting such a cornball answer. It was kind of disappointing.  
  
  
  
Nodding, she snuggled her head into Mr. Possible's neck, who gave her a kiss atop her head. "That's right. I saw my future right there in your father's eyes, and I knew then and there I couldn't say yes to Kenny. So I didn't. And six months later…" she shrugged, smiling at her beloved. "Well, you know the rest, I suppose."  
  
  
  
"Future." Kim said again. It all seemed so ridiculous, like the sappy ending to a romantic comedy. She had a little trouble imagining herself seeing her future in anyone's eyes. "Oh-kay." Glancing at the kitchen clock, she cursed inwardly. "Oh man…" she moaned, rising to her feet. "I gotta get going."  
  
  
  
"So soon?" her mother looked crushed.  
  
  
  
"I'll visit again," Kim promised as she rushed over, kissing both her parents on the cheek before she rushed out the door. "Real soon, I promise!" she called back before the door swung shot.  
  
  
  
Her father watched her leap into the black sedan GJ had provided her for city transportation and jet off at decidedly unsafe speeds. He sighed lightly as he shared another kiss with his wife, who was grinning mischievously. "You know, I distinctly recall a much different story," he said neutrally.  
  
  
  
"Oh really?" she asked, playfully kissing the tip of his nose.  
  
  
  
"For example," he began, unaffected by her feminine wiles, "I recall Maddox dating three other girls when he asked you to marry him."  
  
  
  
"Mm-hmm." his wife cooed, settling her face into the nape of his neck again.  
  
  
  
"I also recall a particularly vicious right hook when you found out." he added, lifting her limp right arm and jiggling the hand in front of her. "This one, if I'm not mistaken."  
  
  
  
Patting him on the cheek, she gave him another quick kiss and said, "Well, Kim needed some encouragement. Besides," she added as she took over the stew duties once more, letting her husband return to his paper, "I think I like that version better. It has more drama, more pizzazz. Don't you think?"  
  
  
  
He snorted, finding his place in the daily paper again as he said, "I think we have enough drama around here without inventing more."  
  
  
  
A quick, black shadow darted onto their street, catching Mrs. Possible's eye through the window. With a happy expression, she watched her long lost pseudo-son pull into the driveway, carrying with him the rest of her family. Each of her sons had a helmet on, which she was grateful for, though it left the third with only his shaggy blonde hair to protect him. She wasn't too concerned; she knew that Ron would never let anything happen to them.  
  
  
  
"Glad I made extra," she quipped to her husband as Ron and the boys walked into the kitchen, chattering excitedly. From the look of the smile on Ron's face, he was just as glad to be there as she was to have him. After all, a mother has to look out for 'all' of her flock, even after they leave the nest.  
  
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The elevator doors parted for Kim as she reached her apartment floor. Her mother's words were ringing in her ears still, and in truth she felt more confused than ever. Sentimental tripe was all right when there weren't any crises to get in the way of pondering them, but she was too busy to try and solve her problems with mushy sappiness.  
  
She was a little surprised to see Will already walking towards her, suited up in his uniform and looking serious as usual. Absently, she wondered if everything was all right. They were supposed to be working out together that night. "Hey," she greeted him with a smile she didn't really feel, "What's going on?"  
  
He paused, giving her a genuine grin in return. "Sorry to cancel on you," he said, "But Doctor Director wants to meet with me immediately. I think it may have something to do with the Drakken situation."  
  
Her face lit up at the prospect of something productive to do. "Wait a sec," she said, tugging at the bottom of her short, lime tank top, "I'll go get my suit."  
  
Will seemed apologetic as he held up his hands. "No need. She's requested a private meeting."  
  
"Oh." Kim sometimes forgot that she was a junior agent in GJ, not one of the tops like Will. She was going to have to get used to working her way up the totem pole, like she had as an independent when she first started out on her own.  
  
'…except you weren't really on your own, were you?' her brain reminded her snidely.  
  
"Don't worry," Will assured her. "I'll fill you in when I get back. It's probably nothing important."  
  
"Sure," she heard herself say hollowly. "I can, uh, catch up on my homework." That was a blatant lie, of course; she always stayed three steps ahead on her homework, just in case a mission ever came up. It was an old habit that had served her well, but now it left her with nothing to do. She watched Will trot down the hallway, disappearing behind the elevator doors with one last wave and a wink at her, which she weakly returned. Then, with a heavy heart, she turned and entered her apartment.  
  
The expansive, echoing walls that had seemed so inviting a few weeks ago now mocked her in silence as she walked through the door. It slid shut behind her with a hiss of finality, trapping her in the world she had wanted so badly.   
  
Mechanically, Kim went to her refrigerator and began preparing a simple dinner, a tuna fish sandwich and a few vegetables. She spread the bland white goop onto her bland white bread without a sound, save for the disgusting glorp of the meat as it left the can. Pouring a glass of milk, she sat down at the counter and flipped on the tiny TV set next to her.  
  
Images and sounds leapt out at her, filling the empty apartment with artificial company. Phony laugh tracks and howling commercials bounced uselessly against her eyes and ears, never fully penetrating the cloak of gloom she had draped around her slumped shoulders.  
  
"Yeah," she sighed to her television, pushing away the plate of food. Her appetite had suddenly fled her anyway. "This sure is the life, huh? Nothing but excitement and adventure as a secret agent…"  
  
The television answered her with commercial for a dating service. Disgusted, Kim flipped the treacherous device off and spent the rest of the evening in total silence. There were no books left to read, no shows left worth watching…and no friends left to call.  
  
That night, sleep eluded her once more.  
  
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[Ten points to the first reviewer who can properly identify the short story stolen…erm, 'utilized for inspiration' in the dream segment. Two bonus points if you can pronounce it properly (hint: the l's are silent)] 


	11. Lies and Denial, Truth and Acceptance

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
Kim Possible contains seven essential nutrients and vitamins, and is part of this complete breakfast. When served with Ron Stoppable, she produces the daily recommended value of no profit, and may reduce the risk of heart disease and vehicular meteoroid assault.  
  
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Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
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Kim moaned softly, clutching her aching ribcage as she walked down the lowered ramp of their hoverjet. Her uniform was torn in several places, and she had a minor burn running across the top of her thigh that stung like the dickens. Her hair was tussled and scorched in a few places, and she felt like crap. Actually, she felt more like something that aspired to be crap.   
  
Will limped behind her, putting on a brave front that hid the minor fracture that lanced with agony every time he took a step. "Well," he groaned, "That could have gone better, yes?"  
  
She glanced back at him, wondering if she looked as bad as he did. 'Definitely looking 'up' to crap at this point,' she thought to herself. Out loud, she simply grunted, feeling the aftereffects of their latest mission, both internally and externally.  
  
It had seemed simple enough: Shego, along with a bunch of Drakken's new goons/allies, had been spotted rampaging around Nebraska's famous House of Corn. There had been no rhyme or reason to the attack, and so GJ had sent in their two specialists when it came to that bunch. Kim had expected a fairly quick victory. What she had gotten was a butt-whooping like none other. It wasn't just that they were outnumbered…something had seemed off in Kim's tempo. Her rhythm was all screwed up, and she couldn't figure out why.  
  
"Well," Will continued, oblivious to her obliviousness, "We can always hope for next time, eh?"  
  
"Sure," Kim muttered, clutching at her ribs. "Next time." Her stomach, which had suffered only a moderate beating, suddenly gurgled with the desire for an age old tradition. Glancing back at her partner, she asked, "Bueno Nacho?"  
  
He stopped for a moment, considering her words. "Good…nacho…" he mulled her odd choice of Spanish over for a moment until the meaning finally struck him. "Oh, the restaurant! Um…" he grimaced at the thought of the greasy menu, then tried to cover his disdain as best he could. He wasn't very good at it. "Perhaps…another time." he said lamely.  
  
"Right…" she sighed, disappointed. It was probably for the best, anyway. She entered the lift as Will started the hoverjet's shutdown procedure. As the doors closed, her hand slipped into her pocket, and she felt a small, thin edge of cardboard press against her skin. The elevator accelerated upwards, leaving her alone in quiet thought as she withdrew the cheerful, colorful postcard.   
  
On the front was a sunny picture of the House of Corn; the owner had been grateful that she and Will had chased the trouble off, and eagerly granted her request for the ten-cent card. At the time, she wasn't really sure why she had picked it up. She suspected, however, and now she was sure…she had gotten the card for Ron. She could just imagine herself giving him the card now. It was a small token, but at least it was a starting point.  
  
'Hey KP,' Ron's voice echoed in her weary mind as she leaned against the cold metal of the elevator, playing out the scene with her imagination. 'Wha'cha got there?'  
  
"Nothing much." She replied aloud with a wan smile. "Just something I picked up on my last mission. It made me think of you."  
  
'Wow. Pictures of corn. I'm flattered.' Ron would say as he took the card, grinning like he always did. He'd brush the cute stray locks of yellow hair the color of Nebraska from his eyes, which would sparkle with his trademark humor. 'More escapades with Will Doofus?'  
  
Her smile became a real one as the elevator doors opened, allowing her to walk slowly out of the tiny enclosure. Her eyes were half-lidded, still in the haze of her daydream. "'Fraid so," she heard herself reply as she walked down the hall. "Um, Ron…There's something I kinda wanted to say…"  
  
"If it's about the crappy gift, don't worry," Ron would laugh as he fanned himself with the postcard. By then, Rufus would already be on his shoulder, snatching the card from his grasp to examine it himself. "I forgive you."  
  
As Kim reached her door, she felt a hot, wet sensation sting against her eyes. "I hope so…" she murmured, entering the hollow flat with a new sense of purpose.  
  
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Shego walked proudly with a light limp into Drakken's dark lab, savoring the sharp twinge she felt every time her left foot struck the metallic floor plating. She had hurt herself back at the fight in Nebraska, but it had been worth it to catch Kimmie square in the breadbasket. "Mission complete, Doc." she announced loudly, lacing her fingers together and cracking her knuckles.  
  
Drakken, seated at the main console, swiveled in his chair with a look of glee on his twisted features. "And Global Justice doesn't suspect anything?"  
  
"As far as they know," she reported, "We were there to raid the gift shop."  
  
"Excellent!" he crowed, turning back to the central monitor, a gigantic screen that nearly reached from floor to ceiling. Currently displayed was a barebones map of the Midwest, with a soft, steady pulsing light smack dab in the center of Nebraska. "With the remote transceiver to guide it, my Drak Force Five will be all the faster and incapable of being redirected! And best of all, Kim Possible and her dopey sidekick are completely unaware!"  
  
"Actually," Shego mused softly as she rubbed her chin, "I didn't see the dopey sidekick at the fight this time…she just brought that glorified milksop from Global Justice, Will-something."  
  
Drakken waved off the inconsequential information. "No matter," he assured his henchwoman. His tiny black gloves curled into fists as an ominous smile spread across his scarred, hideous features. "Very soon, the world will be mine. And there isn't a single thing that Kim Possible or any of her sidekicks can do to stop me." He threw back his head, cackling with glee at the mere thought of the utter devastation he was about to unleash.  
  
"Uh huh…So now what?" Shego said, bored already with Drakken's inexplicable exposition.   
  
Turning quickly, Drakken was on his feet and pacing in a flash. "Tell Long and his goons to prepare a small task force of those Doom-Bots I had Lucre place an order for. Then load them onto the Drakkenator, and set coordinates for London."  
  
"We're going to London?" Shego asked, choosing not to comment on his pathetic choice of vehicular nomenclature. "Ugh. It's so boring! And the food there…who makes a pie out of-"  
  
"Not us, dear Shego," Drakken corrected her, rubbing his palms together with a sinister look. "Just our…distraction. Oh, and prep the communications' array. We need to send a signal out…"  
  
"Signal? To who?" Shego asked, confused.  
  
His smile threatened to split his face. "To Global Justice…"  
  
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Kim faced down mutant warriors without batting an eye. She battled with giant robots a hundred stories tall and kept her cool. She had survived a hundred missions that would make trained professionals sweat, and all without even smudging her lip gloss. But walking down a simple lane with homey family stores on either side of her, she felt more butterflies twisting her stomach into knots than all of her other adventures combined had ever given her.  
  
The semi-familiar streets of Dreidleton were easy enough to navigate, but she took her time anyway. A simple gray sweatshirt kept her warm against the late September chill along with her old, comfortable olive cargos. It was appropriate that half of her attire was her old mission outfit…the tension swimming in her head made it feel halfway like a mission anyway.  
  
'What do I say?' Kim agonized, tucking her hands into the hoodie's front pocket. Part of her was still mad at Ron for all of the things he had said, and the other part felt like the world's biggest heel for all of the things 'she' had said. And despite their differences, both of her halves missed Ron. But did he miss her?  
  
"Kimberly?"  
  
The vaguely familiar voice beckoned her from outside of a kosher deli. She snapped out of her inner dialogue, looking over at a portly man seated on a barrel behind a pristine chessboard. A battered old hat covered his thinning blonde hair, and his bushy mustache wiggled with a smile as she approached. "Mr. Stoppable?" she asked.  
  
"Oh come on," Don Stoppable scoffed, standing to greet the redhead as she took the barrel opposite his. "I've known you since you were six years old, you little munchkin. If you're too old to call me 'Uncle Don', then I guess I'll have to start calling you 'Ms. Possible'."  
  
It was true; Kim could remember summers when Uncle Don would be visiting up at the Stoppable residence. He'd always have some interesting toy, or a dollar on hand for both her and Ron, and had always treated her as a niece, regardless of genetics. "Uncle Don," she smiled, sitting down on the uncomfortable seat. She felt some of the uneasiness vanish from her. It was soothing to know that there was at least one Stoppable that didn't hate her. "How've you been?"  
  
"I can't complain," he said, chucking his thumb back at the eatery behind him. "Business has been good…But not so good that I can't whup you in a game of chess like I used to at those awful family parties Ron used to drag you along to." Kim watched him make the first move and then stare at her expectantly. "What? Too good to play a friendly game with an old man?"  
  
She felt a stab of guilt rise up as she moved her queen-side pawn out to meet his. The corner of the postcard poked at her belly, reminding her of just why she came to Dreidleton. Then again, gathering intel wasn't a bad idea. "Never," she replied evenly. "It's just that I have some place I kinda have to be…"  
  
"I wouldn't worry," Don assured her, countering with a move of his own. "I've never needed more than ten minutes to beat you before."  
  
"That was different." Kim insisted as the game progressed. She made her moves quickly, never taking her eyes from the board. It was Don that had taught her how to play the game when she was little.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
She smiled again, trapping his bishop on the left side of the board. "I always had Ron as a partner." she replied.  
  
Don couldn't help but chuckle at this. "The boy never was any good at chess, was he? Never had the patience for it. Sometimes I think he's pure impulse." He cast a sly glance at her as he took a pawn, removing it with his trademark Stoppable flourish. "Anyway, I hear you run with a 'new' partner nowadays."  
  
Kim stopped, looking up at him. He pretended to study the board, keeping his face carefully neutral. "That's right. I work for Global Justice now." she said, moving a piece thoughtlessly.  
  
"Fine people," Don agreed readily, capitalizing on Kim's distraction. "And anyway, the family's much happier to have him out of danger."  
  
"What about Ron?" Kim asked with feigned innocence, trying to recover from Don's new offense on the board. Her features were carefully guarded as she said, "He hasn't been all that happy, has he?"  
  
"I suppose you would know better than I would, Kimmie." Don replied. "You're his best friend. He must have said something."  
  
"He might have mentioned it." Kim muttered. Suddenly, she looked up, and the game was over; Don's forces had her king pinned down from every side, with nowhere to go and no hope of rescue.  
  
Sighing, the elder Stoppable leaned back, rubbing his sweaty forehead. "Listen, Kim…let's stop playing games."  
  
"You won."  
  
"That's not what I mean, and you know it." he snapped. "Ron's a wreck right now."  
  
"Don't you think I know that?" she replied. She stood up, crossing her arms defensively. "Ron's the one that told me to take this stupid job, and the only reason I wanted it was so I could get out of the dorm. I didn't know that our missions meant that much to him!"  
  
Don sighed again, rubbing his face in an exhausted manner. "Kimberly…You've always been a bright girl," he told her proudly. Her expression softened slightly as he continued, "But you have this annoying habit of being completely oblivious to other people's feelings."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Ron doesn't need missions." Don told her straight out. "He doesn't need a job. He needs his best friend."  
  
Kim had nothing to say to this. She simply stood there, watching Don reset the board calmly, moving the pieces back to where they belonged. "I…" She searched for words, an explanation for what she had done, any at all. But a reason wasn't forthcoming, and she wasn't surprised.  
  
A sudden beeping at her hip alerted her. She took one look at Don, who shrugged helplessly, before pulling out her Communicator. "Go Wa…I mean, what's the sitch, Will?"  
  
Will's face rezzed onto the screen, looking even more serious than usual. "Kim, we need you to report to HQ immediately. Take the pneumatic tubeulator on third, it's only a few blocks from your position."  
  
Headquarters? She hadn't been to headquarters yet, at least not since being inducted. A small sliver of excitement pierced her gloomy veil, but she quickly stamped it out; if they were bringing her to HQ, then something was definitely amiss. "What's going on?"  
  
"It's Drakken. At least," he added, "It could be. I'll explain when you get here. Hurry." With that, he cut communications.  
  
Kim replaced the device at her hip, looking apologetically at her pseudo-relative. "Sorry Uncle Don," she said, "But-"  
  
He raised his hands. "Say no more. It's your job." His voice was neutral, yet it still filled Kim with an even greater sense of guilt. Could all adults do that, or just the ones she knew? "Go get 'em, Kimmie."  
  
With one last goodbye, she took off in a sprint for the hidden tube that would whoosh her away to Global Justice Network's local center. 'Sorry, Ron,' she thought to herself with a pang of sadness. 'It'll have to wait until I get back.'  
  
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Ron sneezed violently into his hands, thankfully missing the glasses he was preparing. "Someone must be talking about me," he muttered, pouring out lemonades for each of his guests. He walked around his counter and into the living room, where a small riot was tearing his meager furniture apart.  
  
"Hoo sha!" Jim crowed as he tugged at his controller, sending his electronic avatar flying across the screen and into another. "I'm totally whomping you!"  
  
"Of course you are," Monique groused, pecking at her own controller with confusion as she had the electronic tar pounded out of her. "I have no idea what I'm doing here."  
  
"That's for sure," Tim snickered, joining in with his brother's cruel video antics. "It's like you've never even played X-Cubestation before."  
  
"Look," she groused, biting her lower lip as the twins pounded the holy snot out of her character, "Unless there's a video game that involves coordinating outfits, you're pretty much guaranteed to beat me."  
  
"And how!" Jim laughed, until the fourth character in the game grabbed hold of a power bomb and torched his player. "Hey!"  
  
"Mwa-ha-ha-ha!" Rufus sniggered, dancing on his controller and using his tiny claws to send massive amounts of electronic death to the twins. "Flawless!"  
  
Monique gratefully accepted the lemonade from Ron, setting her now-useless controller aside as she watched her character get torn to shreds. "Thanks."  
  
"No big," Ron shrugged with a smile. "I'm just glad to have the company. Rufus and I've been pretty lonely since…" He trailed off, looking down and away. Rufus, having won the match, looked up with big sad eyes as Ron finished lamely, "Since, y'know."  
  
"Yeesh," Mon patted him on the cheek, "Cheer up already." She spied a familiar blue object sitting on his table, and snatched it up eagerly. "Ooh, check me out." She crossed her arms, holding the Kimmunicator in a rakish fashion. "Remind you of anyone?" she asked with sultry lips and half-lidded eyes.  
  
He raised a brow at her antics, walking away as the twins started a new match against the reigning rodent champion. "I'd never think that low of you, Monique."  
  
"Ouch," she winced, dropping her arms. "Harsh much?" She watched him prepare a small snack tray with uncanny diligence. His hands chopped angrily against some fresh veggies, blurring with such speed that she wondered if they'd have to take him to the emergency room with his fingers in a plastic bag with ice. "I take it you haven't gotten any calls to save the world anymore."  
  
"Haven't you heard?" he remarked snidely as he diced a carrot into inedible particles. "I'm out of the sidekick business. Now I'm just an unemployed waiter."  
  
She eyed him suspiciously. Moving closer, she wrapped her arms around his waist in a casual manner, resting her chin on his shoulder. "So why keep this?" she asked, waving the Kimmunicator in front of his face as he continued to ruin perfectly good food.  
  
"Fine." he snapped brusquely, not even flinching as she pressed up against him. "Take it. It's yours. Happy Sucky-September Day, or whatever holiday you want today to be."  
  
She pulled away, looking sadly at him. "You really miss her, don't you?" she asked quietly.  
  
Ron's chopping stopped abruptly. He tossed the knife down, turning around and jabbing at her with an undamaged carrot in hand. "No," he said between his teeth, "As a matter of fact, I don't. I've been a social leech on the Kim Possible hiney long enough. It's time for me to set out on my own, and become my own man." He took a big bite out of the carrot, chewing noisily with grinding teeth. "I don't need some self-important, pushy, loudmouth uppity redhead telling me what to do day in and day out. Who needs her?"  
  
She snickered. "Whatever you say, Cleopatra." She turned back to the living room, calling out to the boys. "Hey Tweebs, boot up my character again. I wanna give Ultra Squish Siblings another try!"  
  
Ron watched her move back to the game, taking another bite of his carrot. Where did Monique get off judging him anyway? Who did she think she was, Kim? Well, he didn't need any more pushy women in his life. And what did she mean by…  
  
He suddenly got it. "Oh. Cleopatra. Queen of de-Nile. Ha ha, very funny," he sneered, moving back to food preparation. "Just watch that joke," he muttered quietly, taking the knife up again, "It's an antique."  
  
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A strange, green wave pattern wobbled on Global Justice Headquarters' main screen, the GJHQMS (so dubbed by the Global Justice Redundant Categorization Department, or GJRCD), baffling GJ's analysts and scientists in its origins or purpose. Kim, clad in her confining mission clothes, stood in the central alcove, leaning against a large circular table with GJ's seal embossed on it as she studied the signal.  
  
"We've been receiving this for almost half an hour now," Will explained, leaning next to her and similarly clad. His brow was heavy with concentration and foreboding. "It's some kind of carrier wave, we think, originating," he reached forward with a small remote in hand, switching the wave analysis to a global map, "From a specific point in the Pacific Ocean." A small, flashing indicator marked the theoretical location of their mysterious signal.  
  
"What was the wave carrying?" Kim asked, scowling at the isolated spot.  
  
"This."   
  
Pressing his remote once more, the large map vanished, replaced with an infuriating picture of Doctor Drakken. The scientist stood on some kind of gantry, surrounded by his fiendish allies; Monkey Fist, Killigan, Long and his cronies, the Seniors, and Shego. Half of Lucre's posterior was in the picture, as if he had set the timer on the camera, but was too slow to make it into the frame. Behind all of them stood the stolen nuclear missile, now painted a dastardly blue with black trim. Something was written along the side of the rocket, but she couldn't quite make it out.  
  
  
  
"Doctor Drakken…" Kim's teeth gnashed involuntarily. She felt her fists clenching down by her hips. "He's refitted the missile…"  
  
  
  
"No doubt, using the technology your 'friend' let him acquire back in Hong Kong." Will added needlessly. "We've cross-referenced with our global satellites; there's no land mass at those coordinates, which would suggest possibly a sub-oceanic or even mobile base."  
  
  
  
"Are we sending in a full team?" she asked, pointedly ignoring the jab at Ron. She ached to bring Drakken down and end the crisis, if for no other reason then to put her life back in order.  
  
  
  
"Negative." He shook his head, returning the monitor to its wave analysis and setting the control aside. "You and I will go in for reconnaissance and assess the situation. Doctor Director will then act accordingly, based on the data we give her. We don't want to send agents into a full-blown trap…"  
  
  
  
"Not when two will be an acceptable loss," Kim grimaced.   
  
  
  
Will raised his brow at the comment, but let it pass. "We launch in ten. I'll have our hoverjet loaded with the aquatic equipment we'll need." He cast one last, unreadable glance back at her before he exited, leaving Kim to study the mysterious wave alone.  
  
  
  
Every instinct she possessed told her this was a trap. The only question was, how clever of a trap was it? For, if Drakken really 'was' transmitting from his own lair, that would give GJ the coordinates they needed to level the place from orbit, eliminating the threat. If not… "Just have to think on our feet, huh Ro…" She stopped herself, rubbing the bridge of her nose in irritation at the slip. Luckily, no one was around to notice…or so she thought.  
  
  
  
A gentle hand grasped her shoulder as a familiar, feminine voice murmured, "Well, we meet at last, Agent Possible."  
  
  
  
Kim turned, gasped, and snapped into an attentive salute at the sight of Doctor Director herself. The older woman chuckled a bit, returning the salute and motioning for Kim to drop the kay-det act. "Doctor Director," Kim managed to say, "I'm sorry, I'm just a little surprised to see you."  
  
  
  
"And I'm surprised I haven't seen you," she smiled, prompting Kim to do the same. "We've been busy with this Drakken mess…But you know all about that." As Kim nodded, a sudden thought occurred to the elder agent. "Oh, congratulations, by the way. So far, you're on your way to becoming one of our top agents." She smirked, and said, "Not bad for two weeks worth of work, eh?"  
  
"Thank you," Kim blushed lightly, nodding with humility. "It's no big, really."  
  
"I have to say, though," Doctor Director added, "I was surprised Stoppable didn't take our offer."  
  
Time seemed to freeze as Kim blinked, taking the words into her system. They settled at the bottom of her stomach, spreading a bitter feeling through her body. "E-Excuse me?" she muttered hoarsely. Perhaps she had heard wrong, or misunderstood, or-  
  
"Our offer," Doctor Director reiterated, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the grand table. "You know, to join Global Justice along with you. Had to read Agent Du's report twice just to convince myself that he turned us down. I was sure you two would be a package deal."  
  
The world spun around Kim's head as she steadied herself against the table. "You mean you guys 'wanted' Ron?" she asked slowly, finding a bit more of her voice amidst the confusion. It couldn't be what she thought it was…it just couldn't be!  
  
"Oh, sure," Doctor Director said, staring up at the wave pattern screen in idle thought. "Stoppable's a little rough around the edges, but the boy has great instincts." She smiled at Kim as she unknowingly shattered the last of Kim's self-denial. "Besides, it was a shame to break up such an effective team."  
  
"Yeah," the teen agent croaked.  
  
The Director shrugged. "Still," she said, "You and Will seem to be hitting it off pretty well." Her good eye shifted with confusion as she frowned. "Didn't Will approach you both at the same time?"  
  
"Oh," Kim said quickly, still sorting everything out, "No, he, uh…He must have caught Ron at a different time."  
  
"Well," Doctor Director shrugged again, "After this Drakken situation is handled, I want you to take a week off. You've been putting in a lot of voluntary training time in. Go spend some time with Stoppable, or something." Kim was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she missed the Director's sly, knowing smile. "Our logs haven't registered a visit from the boy since you moved in."  
  
"He couldn't get an access pass," Kim muttered distractedly. "Too much paperwork."  
  
The Director snorted at this. "Well sure," she said, "If you're a civilian. An agent can request a pass for any civvy and have it in under twenty-four hours tops." She frowned once more, looking skeptical. "Du was supposed to brief you on things like this."  
  
Kim's voice was barely audible. "Must've slipped his mind."  
  
"I'll have security run a pass for him ASAP." Doctor Director smiled warmly, clapping her on the shoulder. "It'll be ready by the time you get back."  
  
"I…I'd…better get going." Kim said quickly, feeling a mass of bile pushing against her throat.  
  
Doctor Director tossed her a salute, which Kim returned hurriedly. "Good luck, Agent Possible." she smiled with confidence in her prodigy. "And good hunting." With that, she turned back to the signal analysis, completely missing the look of despair that crossed the features of her newest agent.  
  
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Will shifted uncomfortably against his flight harness, gripping the control yoke of their hoverjet with white knuckles. They zipped over the ocean at several times the speed of sound, which still didn't explain the complete stillness in the tiny cockpit. They were twenty minutes into the flight, and Kim hadn't said a word; she just stared out the view port with a glazed-over expression.  
  
Any attempt he made at conversation was met with total silence. Any question was answered monosyllabically. He was trained in field psychology, reading expressions, but her poker face was absolute. Nothing slipped through her rocky exterior.  
  
"We are about five minutes from the target," Will said as he unlatched his harness and lifted it over his head. "We should…" Kim hadn't moved or looked in his direction at the sound of his voice. She just stared off into space, watching the blue-green water roll beneath them at Mach speed. Steeling himself, Will employed the same tactic he applied to everything else in his life; the direct approach. "Kim," he said with soft concern, "Is something wrong?"  
  
Without moving, Kim asked in a hauntingly calm tone, "When were you going to tell me?"  
  
He blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry," he said slowly, "I'll keep you better appraised of our ETAs from now on-"  
  
"When were you going to tell me Ron was supposed to be an agent too?"  
  
Kim watched from the corner of her eye as the color drained from Will's face, and felt a small slice of satisfaction adrift in the churning ocean of her anger. For several seconds, all he could do was stutter helplessly and babble incoherently. she turned to face him, struggling to keep her face expressionless.  
  
"I…I didn't…You weren't…"  
  
"You must have known I'd find out eventually." she said with an air of rationality she didn't feel. "Why did you tell Ron GJ wasn't interested in him?" Her voice rose slowly as she straightened her slouch, facing him tall and proud.  
  
Will struggled for a moment more before he calmed down, mirroring her placid front. "I did it for you." he told her evenly. Ignoring her look of total incredulity, he continued, "I saw an intelligent, talented young woman in her prime being held back by a bumbling, useless nobody. I saw what you could become, and it tore me up inside to know that, as long as he was around, you'd never achieve what you could on your own."  
  
The senior agent watched his partner digest his painful, heartfelt admission. Her blank face did not change as she said, "Don't lie to me. Don't you dare sit there and lie to my face." A crack appeared in her façade, betraying a powerful burst of anger as she snapped, "Do you think I'm stupid?"  
  
"I needed a partner!" The reply exploded from Will as he lost the contest of bottled emotions. "I needed a partner, and I wanted the best. I've watched you for years, and I wanted you, but I knew I would never have you as long as that buffoon-"  
  
Now Kim didn't even try to hide her rage. "Don't call him that!" she raised her voice, leaning in dangerously. Her emerald eyes blazed with cold fire, boring into Will with the intensity of a gunshot. "What gave you the right to decide-"  
  
"I had to!" Will insisted again. "Kim, for quite some time now, I've been in love with-"  
  
"Love?" she burst, throwing her hands up. "How can you love me? she demanded, "You don't even know me!"  
  
"I don't understand why you're even mad," he shot back with genuine confusion. "I mean, I didn't 'make' Stoppable yell at you at the restaurant, did I? I didn't make him say any of those awful things to you, but he did! Do you remember all that?"  
  
"You lied to me!" she shouted.  
  
"You aren't even speaking to him anymore!" Will shouted back.  
  
"That doesn't mean I don't still care about him!" Kim ripped her flight harness off, standing up and looming over Will as she continued to shout. "Ron and I have fought hundreds of times! He's always ticking me off, or saying something dumb, or embarrassing me! That doesn't mean I don't still love him!"  
  
The words hung in the air between the two teens with all the weight of an anvil. Kim's lower lip trembled as she brought her hand to her mouth. Her eyes widened, even as Will's narrowed.  
  
"So that's how it is." he said softly. His jaw tightened. He looked back out of the view port, then back at the instrumentation. Their little spat had carried them the rest of the way; the autopilot was now slowing their extreme velocity, and would soon bring them to hover just a few meters over the ocean's churning surface. "We're nearly there. We should gear up. We still have a job to do."  
  
And with that, he left Kim standing in the cockpit, alone with her chaotic thoughts.  
  
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Even through her foggy face mask, Kim couldn't help but marvel at Drakken's latest lair. It was an enormous undersea dome, with windows and portholes spaced evenly about its turtle-like shell. The metallic dome sat atop a broad, circular platform, which in turn sat atop what appeared to be a pneumatic shaft.  
  
"Impressive." Will breathed through his radio/air feed. "It appears to rise and submerge upon command."  
  
"No wonder we haven't been able to find him," Kim breathed in sharply.  
  
Will ignored her, even more businesslike than usual. "We need to get closer. I want a look inside that thing." He kicked his webbed fins, pressing ahead. Like Kim, he was weighed down with dark deep-diving gear designed to be inconspicuous, but they were both strong swimmers, and didn't have much trouble navigating beneath the waves.  
  
"Shouldn't we call for back-"  
  
"No. We can handle this." Will replied snappishly.   
  
The surface of the dome loomed closer, betraying the actual size of the complex. Kim was loathe to admit it, but she was truly impressed with Drakken's set-up this time. Coming at the lair from above, she could even see a large, circular door set in the exact center of the dome. That, she surmised, must be the launch door for his missile.  
  
  
  
Swimming in further, they soon grew close enough to actually skim the surface of the expansive dome. The metal was cold beneath Kim's gloved fingertips, but not as cold as she expected for this depth. "So how do we get in?"  
  
  
  
Will was about to reply when the seamless surface of the dome split suddenly beneath them, pulling at them with an irresistible current. The change in the waters was too sudden to fight; Kim helplessly watched the bubbles from her mask swirl about her as she and Will were sucked into the dome and down into its inky depths.  
  
  
  
The world spun about her as she and Will were forced into a narrow channel, bumping and slamming against the inside of a twisting, turning metal cylinder. Kim tried desperately to get her bearings, to fight against the current…anything! But she was helpless, and she hated that feeling more than anything.  
  
  
  
After an eternity of bumping and flowing, the pair were dumped unceremoniously into clean, dry air, slamming hard against the metal grating that caught them and allowed the thousands of gallons they had been captured with to pour out around them.   
  
  
  
As soon as the last of the water had let up, Kim stood and tore her mask away, slamming her fist against the release catch of her scuba gear. Will was just a moment behind her as they kicked their fins off, looking around the darkened, featureless room.  
  
  
  
"Where are we?" Will grunted, spitting up a fair amount of seawater.  
  
  
  
A sudden spotlight was their answer, providing them with painful illumination. Kim squinted against the bright light, shielding her eyes with her hand as she looked about the room. She almost wished she was as clueless as Will, who could only blink and moan against the sudden photonic assault.  
  
  
  
"Welcome, Kim Possible," Drakken greeted her from the edge of the room, standing with his arms folded arrogantly.  
  
  
  
Continuing her circle, Kim spotted nine other figures in the room, each of them familiar, and each of them armed. Shego, Lucre, Monkey Fist, Killigan, Long, Claymore, Falchion, and the Senior family, all grinning at her with the same sinister smile.  
  
  
  
Drakken tilted his head, continuing with a gracious expression of victory. "You're just in time for the end of the world."  
  
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	12. Penultimate, Part 1

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
The 2004 Kim Possible comes standard with power locks, power window, anti-lock brakes, four wheel drive and electric seat warmers. Act now and get zero down and no profit for eighteen months after purchase! The 2004 Kim Possible: So the Drama…  
  
=Response to Reviews=  
  
Monica Lavender  
  
You are the QUEEN of fanfiction! (You are a girl, right?) In any event, I LOVE this! You inspire me, you make want to try to write better. This fic is AWESOME! Drakken is awesome, the college theme is awesome! This last chapter was incredible.  
  
Huh. Well, as you can imagine, I'm very flattered, but you put me in a bit of a pickle here. See, on the one hand, I'm male. But, on the other hand, I 'do' lust for power like a fat man lusts for a big ol' hot fudge sundae at a Weight Watcher's meeting. After much deliberation and consternation, I have reluctantly decided to accept the title you have graciously bestowed upon me. I vow to use my new powers as Queen of Fanfiction for good, or awesome, and not for personal gain.  
  
Okay, maybe a little personal gain…  
  
===============================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
===============================================================================  
  
The world came back into focus slowly and painfully, fading in from the blackest of blacks. A dull throb pounded against her skull as her eyes fluttered open. With a groan, she tried to move, but found her arms and legs immobilized by something cold and solid. The same cool feeling was pressed against her back as she struggled uselessly against the metal shackles.  
  
"Ah," Drakken's voice echoed from behind her. Frantically, she tried to twist her head. She could see a solid wall of featureless gray metal staring her in the face. "The hero awakens," Drakken's unseen, sinister sneer continued.  
  
A sudden jolt rocked her as the X-shaped frame binding her began to rotate. As she spun, she saw Will hanging limply from an identical rig. "Drakken," she grumbled.  
  
The rest of the room revealed itself, dropping Kim's jaw: They were in an enormous chamber filled with computer terminals, heavy machinery, and a large set of double doors leading to an even larger room. Armored glass fortifications allowed her a view of what lay inside, the stolen rocket they had been desperately searching for. It had been modified and repainted with black and blue, and possessed a quartet of bold letters running up the side. Kim's dizzy eyes couldn't quite focus the monogramming at the moment, so she concentrated her efforts elsewhere.  
  
"So glad you could join us, Kim Possible!" Drakken threw his arms wide, welcoming his prisoners. Shego and Señor Senior Senior stood to his left, with Long and Lucre on his right. Killigan, Monkey Fist and Long's cronies flanked her shackles menacingly. "I do hope the accommodations are to your liking." Drakken smiled sarcastically.  
  
"Can we skip the lame villain pleasantries, puh-lease?" Kim moaned, letting her head drop back against the binding rig. As much as she wanted Drakken to prattle on, giving her enough time to come up with an escape plan, she could only take 'so' many clichés. If there was one thing this room didn't need, it was more obnoxious bad guy posturing. "It's been a 'long' day, and I'm reeeealy tired."  
  
"Oh, but you simply 'must' stay awake for what comes next, my old foe." Drakken danced gleefully, waving with a grand gesture to his pride and joy sitting behind heat-proof glass in the opposite room. "I'm sure you recognize the missile I and my comrades acquired in Siberia, yes?" Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "Well, combined with technology taken in Hong Kong, I assure you that it is no longer an 'ordinary' missile."  
  
"Let me guess," Kim said in a bored tone. "You've managed to increase its destructive power tenfold, and will hold the world for ransom, blah blah blah…" she trailed off with a heavy sigh. "Don't you have 'any' imagination?"  
  
"Ah, but you're wrong!" he admonished her. Drawing closer, his twisted smile grew with every step. "You see, I've actually reduced the explosive capacity of the rocket. Do you know why?"  
  
"Because you're insane?"  
  
"Not this time," he assured her with a laugh. The confused expression on her delicate features was too delicious to pass up, so he fed her curiosity further. "You see, the nuclear explosion will be merely another distraction. The real threat is…this!" He reached into his jacket, withdrawing a vial of greenish liquid.  
  
Kim eyed the test tube skeptically. "And that is…what? A new shade of nail polish? I think it matches my eyes…"  
  
He considered the two colors. "You know, I think you're…I mean, no!" He snapped his fingers impatiently. With a dejected sigh, Shego stepped forward, having produced a small flower in a pot. "Consider this rose, Kim Possible."  
  
"Huh. It's pretty." she commented, examining the rose.  
  
"Thank you, I grew it myself. Now," his tone grew hushed with glee, "Imagine that this flower represents all the crops in North America…And this beaker is Drak Force Five, equipped with the marvelous Pulson Detonator!" He unstopped the vial with a little difficulty, then poured its contents onto the rose. Kim watched with growing horror as the blossom shriveled and died almost immediately.  
  
"You 'are' insane," she breathed, lunging at him. It was lucky for Drakken that his shackles were escape-proof, or she would have torn him apart with her bare hands then and there. "You can't destroy those crops, there'll be-"  
  
"World-wide hunger?" Drakken smirked. "Not to worry. Thanks to our friends at Roddigan Industries, we'll soon have farms that can produce enough food to feed the globe-"  
  
"Controlled by us." Long interjected, much to the annoyance of Drakken.  
  
Kim sneered at the villains, renewing her struggle against the bonds that held her. "I'll stop you," she swore with fire in her green eyes. "I won't let you do this!"  
  
Senior stepped forward, rapping his cane smartly on the deck plating. "Sassy as always, my adolescent, feisty foe. However, I fear your usual confidence is tragically misplaced in this instance. Global Justice is dealing with a major attack in England at the moment, courtesy of our generous host's Drak-Bots."  
  
"We have you outnumbered and captured." Long informed her needlessly. He, unlike his other Roddigan comrades, was unarmed and unarmored. Though, given the circumstances, it wasn't necessarily a tactical blunder. "You have no chance."  
  
Drakken's eye tweaked as the other two began stealing his thunder. "Excuse me," he growled, "But I thought 'I' was going to do the gloating."  
  
"Ridiculous," Long scoffed, turning on Drakken with a deep scowl. "Why should you claim all the glory for yourself?"  
  
"Yes" Senior was quick to agree. "We have all contributed substantially to this project. We should share in 'all' its benefits, including our requisite villainous gloating."  
  
"My lair," Drakken stomped his foot childishly, "My rules! If you don't like it, you can take it outside. I hear that lantern fish are excellent listeners!"  
  
"Um," Lucre cleared his throat, pulling a sheaf of papers from his vest. "When's it going to be my turn? I had a whole evil speech prepared." He shuffled the sheets, squinting at his atrocious handwriting. "Kim Pose-able," he began reading in a monotone version of his phony accent, "You have… fallen for our ingenious…tarp, and-"  
  
"Hey!" Killigan shouted from his post next to the insensate Will, "Wha' aboot us?"  
  
"We've been doing all the work around here." Monkey Fist added crossly. He folded his hairy arms across his gi. "When do 'we' get to gloat?"  
  
"You?" Claymore shot from behind his armored mask.  
  
"Preposterous!" Falchion added lightly.  
  
"You want to test my mettle, Tin Can?" the monkey master bristled, stalking forward across the prisoners' view. "I'll turn you into a slot machine!"  
  
Drakken saw the situation spiraling out of control, and stepped forward to salvage it. "Gentlemen, please!" he cried, waving his hands. "Drak Force Five won't be flight-worthy for several hours. All in the Legion of Villainous Evil will get a chance to gloat, I promise!"  
  
As the other Legionnaires gathered with Drakken to discuss gloating rights, Kim noticed at last what the letters painted on the old Soviet missile were. "LoVE? Your evil alliance is called LoVE?"  
  
Shego leaned against Kim's shackle rig, having extracted herself early from the loud, obnoxious argument before it could really take off. "Ye-ah," she groaned, "It's a little better if you say it all out loud."  
  
Together, the two women watched the men of the organization bicker amongst one another in the shadow of the nuclear missile, which was crawling with red jumpsuits who carried tools and parts to complete the project. "So, this is your super-team?" Kim said sardonically.  
  
Junior entered from a hatch set up off to the side, carrying a magazine beneath his beefy arm. "Excuse me, Professor Drakken," he said as he motioned back the way he came, "But your toilet is with the clogging. Perhaps the hairy ninja or your very odd Scottish dress-wearing man could help?"  
  
Grinding her teeth, Shego gripped the edges of Kim's rig to keep herself from going berserk. "Let me remind you which one of us is the prisoner here…" she growled.  
  
"For the moment," Kim said with confidence she didn't really have. With the missile still in final development and the villains squabbling like children, they had at least a little time left. But Will was still out, and their bonds were too solid to break loose. Drakken had secured her hands and feet far away from any of her gadgets, but had wisely left the booby-trapped utility belt alone. He must have figured out it was rigged with a gas packet in case anyone tried to remove it improperly. For the first time ever, Kim Possible was helpless and with no hope of rescue.  
  
'This is not good…' she thought with a heavy heart, gazing up at the rocket that would claim so many, many lives. 'Not good at all…'  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Ron," Monique called as she hunted through his cupboards, "I don't see any cashews, and I have a major craving."  
  
"I just got them yesterday," Ron grunted as he jerked his game controller, nearly tearing the cord from its console as his electronic car struggled with Rufus' for the lead. Behind their virtual duel, Jim and Tim were breathing down his neck, and all with half a lap to go. "Check down below," he called back distractedly.  
  
As Monique bent down to look in the lower cabinets, she heard a strange, muffled beeping coming from her pants. It took her a second to recognize the musical, four-note pattern. "Oh, hey!" she exclaimed, pulling the Kimmunicator from her pocket. She held it up, calling out to Ron, "You've got a call!"  
  
He barely afforded the affronting device a glance before turning back to his game. "I'm not here," he instructed her gruffly.  
  
"Well, when 'are' you going to be back?" she huffed impatiently.  
  
"That depends," he snapped back without turning around, "When's the Earth scheduled to explode?"  
  
"Men." Monique rolled her eyes. Ignoring its incessant beeping, she examined the Kimmunicator's controls a moment before finding the right button. Wade's round, panicked face immediately filled the screen. "Hey cutie," Mon greeted him with a smile, "What's up?"  
  
"Kimsdisappearedanddrakkensdestroyinglondon!" Wade cried frantically.  
  
Ron's hands went limp as he heard Wade from all the way across the room. His digital car careened off of the track and barreled into a lamppost, exploding in a burst of pixilated flame.  
  
"Whoa, slow down," Mon eased him off, wincing at his intensity. "Start over."  
  
Taking a drag of soda and a deep breath, Wade tried again. "Kim's disappeared with Will on some secret mission a few hours ago. Their signal vanished somewhere over the Pacific. After that, Drakken's robots showed up in London and started tearing up the place! GJ is swamped, and I can't find Kim anywhere!"  
  
Jim shut off the X-Cubestation as Tim turned the TV to an all-news channel. A balding man in an expensive blue suit and a cheap toupee stood in front of burning buildings and screaming masses, talking to his audience in a low, calm monotone. Every now and then, the camera's eye would catch a glimpse of a blood-red mechanoid strafing the London landscape with angry lasers, or screaming Brits running every which way.  
  
"Heavy…" Monique breathed, clutching at her mouth in horror.  
  
"I think Drakken's captured Kim and Will," Wade interrupted their shock. "I had to pull a few 'big' strings, but I've got supersonic transport lined up and ready to go. Ron, I can have you in London in-"  
  
"Kim isn't there." Ron muttered, squinting at the news footage.  
  
"Huh?" was the collective reply.  
  
The former sidekick leaned forward, rubbing his chin. He saw plenty of GJ agents running about, chasing after Drakken's fearsome automated army…and that was all. Ron pulled back with a shake of his head. "Kim isn't there because Drakken isn't there."  
  
"Um," Jim scratched his head.  
  
"Did you notice the robot army?" Tim shouted.  
  
"Look!" Ron growled, getting up from his futon and stalking back over to the kitchen. "I know Drakken. I've been fighting Drakken since High School. He's a gloater; he'd be right in the thick of things, hiding behind Shego and spouting off as loudly as possible."  
  
Monique didn't seem convinced. "So?"  
  
He gestured helplessly to the screen. "If Shego was in London, the camera couldn't miss her. No Shego, no Drakken, which means no Kim."  
  
"Then this doesn't make sense…" Wade mumbled as he watched the scene unfold on the same news feed. "First Nebraska, and now this."  
  
"Wade," Monique looked back into the Kimmunicator thoughtfully, "You said that Kim's signal disappeared over the Pacific?"  
  
The techie's fingers danced across his keyboard. "I had some trouble breaking through their stealth cloak, but I'm pretty sure…"  
  
"Hold on a sec," Tim broke in, leaning over the back of the couch. "What was that about Nebraska?"  
  
"Yeah," Jim added, "I thought that was all farm country. What would a super villain want with corn?" He exchanged a look with his brother, but both could only shrug at the other.  
  
"I don't know, I don't know!" Wade wailed and tugged at his hair. "We've got all the pieces, but I don't know how the puzzle fits together. Kim was always-"  
  
"Kim's not here!" Monique exclaimed. What was it with these people? She liked Kim as much as any of them (with the possible exception of Ron), but were they totally helpless without her? "Kim's in trouble," she tried again, this time with an even head. "It's up to us to figure this out."  
  
There was a beat before Wade and the twins looked at her expectantly, and said, "Well?"  
  
She grew more exasperated. "What do you want from me?" she asked heatedly, "I don't know any more than you do!"  
  
"What did it do?"  
  
Ron had been silent since offering his opinion earlier, focusing his attention on pretending to find the nuts in the cupboard. When he spoke, the room grew silent with confusion before they all communally replied, "Huh?"  
  
Stone faced, he walked over to Monique and took the Kimmunicator from her hands. His eyes were lifeless and cold as they drilled into Wade's image. "That thing they stole back in Hong Kong. What's it do?"  
  
"The Pulson Detonator?" Wade shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not really sure. I mean, it's development was highly classified, and-"  
  
  
  
"Wade…" Ron warned him humorlessly.  
  
Sighing in defeat, Wade caved. "Okay, okay," he said as he brought up a series of schematics on the tiny screen. "The Detonator is the latest in biological warfare. It's designed with a cutting-edge gravimetric generator that-"  
  
"Wade!" Ron snapped again.  
  
"Basically," Wade said quickly, "It can spread a biological agent across hundreds, even thousands of square miles."  
  
The teen considered this for a moment. His eyes darted back and forth as the rusted gears spun noisily in his skull. "You said something about Nebraska earlier." he recalled.  
  
"Yeah, but-"  
  
"That's the target." Ron said. He tossed the device back to Monique.  
  
Mon fumbled with the Kimmunicator, then threw Ron's back a stare of disbelief as he returned to his lame excuse of a search for cashews. "You're kidding, right? Why would he-"  
  
"Wait." Wade pounded his computer, frowning in confusion. He split the Kimmunicator's screen in half, showing Monique a map of the Midwest. There was a faint, pulsing light over the House of Corn, with a thin line leading away from it. "I'm detecting a faint, low-band signal coming from the attack site."  
  
The twins rushed over, their interest stoked even further by the new clue. "Why didn't you detect it before?" Jim asked eagerly.  
  
"It's a really uncommon frequency. Global Justice probably doesn't know about this yet."  
  
"Can you trace it back?" The twins harmonized.  
  
Wade grimaced uncertainly, typing like a man possessed. "It'll be tough," he warned them. "There's no telling how long…Got it!"  
  
Monique raised an eyebrow. "That was it?"  
  
"Hey," he shrugged, "I just make it 'look' easy." A new dot appeared on the map, overlapping the point where Kim's signal had disappeared. "Notice anything?"  
  
"You rock, Wade." Monique grinned. She glanced up at Ron, but the boy had his head buried in the cabinet. "Ron, you'd better-"  
  
"Not going." he called, rummaging through cans and packages of food.  
  
Monique was stunned into silence at his blasé tone. She could only stare at him in disbelief. Luckily, the twins weren't under any such constraints.  
  
"Ron, you gotta go!" Jim insisted.  
  
"Yeah," Tim chimed in, "You gotta save Kim!"  
  
"Even if she is a dork…"  
  
"A major dork…"  
  
Pulling himself out of the depths of his cupboard, Ron brushed the dust free of his clothes. "I'm sorry," he said brusquely, "You have me mistaken for Kim Possible's sidekick. I'm not." His voice was flat and final.  
  
"But Ron!" they whined in union.  
  
Monique laid a hand on their shoulders, pushing them towards the door. "Give us a minute, boys," she told them. "We'll be right behind you." As soon as they were out in the hall, she whirled on Ron with hands on her hips. "What is your damage, boy?"  
  
"Nothing," Ron snorted. He finally found his wayward cashews, and popped the lid. Pouring a generous amount into his mouth, he sneered dismissively at Monique's righteous anger. "Eh mot my mobmon eff Kmm's im twobl." he shrugged.  
  
"Yes-it-is!" Monique shot back. She stalked over and snatched the snack from his hand before he could cram any more into his craw. "Kim is your friend…your 'BEST' friend. Those Justice guys are busy fighting robots in Europe, which means that there's only one person left-"  
  
"MO!" he stamped his foot and spewed bits of nuts at her. "Mim mob goib!"  
  
"Will you 'please' swallow before I'm forced to hurt you?"  
  
He forced the jagged bits down his throat and then repeated, "I'm not going! I don't owe Kim anything except a swift kick in the butt." He folded his arms defiantly, turning his back on the exotic beauty with a 'harrumph'. "If you're so hot to trot, why don't you go fight Drakken?"  
  
Monique hesitated uncertainly, feeling torn. Then she shouted, "Fine!" and stormed into Ron's bedroom, slamming the door. The pictures on the walls rattled with the sheer force of her anger, but Ron wasn't fazed.  
  
A tugging down at Ron's pant leg drew him out of his mopey mood. Rufus sat on his shoe, staring up at him with big, sad eyes and a pleading expression. His lower lip trembled pathetically in a perfect impression of Kim's classic puppy-dog pout. Luckily for Ron, the rodent's mastery of the psychological weapon wasn't quite complete. "No, Rufus!" Ron said flat out.  
  
"Ho, rescue…" Rufus whined, tugging again.  
  
"I said-"  
  
His bedroom door flew open again, revealing Monique in all her splendid anger. She was dressed in Kim's spare mission togs, an outfit she always kept with Ron in case a mission suddenly cropped up with no time to go home and change. The fashion queen tugged uncomfortably at the high-cut hem of the tight shirt, trying without success to cover her exposed belly. If he hadn't been so mad, Ron would have laughed out loud.   
  
Wordlessly, she began stomping across the floor, shaking the dishes in his cupboard with each step. Rufus looked back up at Ron, then over at Monique. With one last sigh, the mole rat scampered over to Mon and climbed her pant leg. She stopped long enough for Rufus to climb into her cargo pocket before continuing on. Ron almost called his friend back, but thought better of it and remained silent.   
  
'Traitor,' he thought contemptuously.  
  
Monique stopped with her hand on the doorknob and looked over her shoulder at Ron's turned back. "Let me ask you one thing, Ron," she said in a low voice. He didn't even flinch as she said, "Even after all the horrible things Kim's done and said…No matter how much she doesn't deserve it…Does that really change how you feel about her?"  
  
Ron didn't reply. He heard the door open and close a moment later, and knew that he was alone.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"So we're in agreement," Drakken said tersely to the bunch gathered not too far from Kim Possible's shackles. A tiny notepad was clutched in his equally tiny claws, and filled with incomprehensible scrawling. "I start us out with a three-minute introductive rant. Then five minutes each for the Seniors, Monkey Fist, Killigan, the Knights, Lucre, and then I finish us off with a brief conclusion."  
  
"Wait one moment, Professor Blue-Man," Junior butted in. He looked with open contempt at the two mercenaries and Lucre, asking, "There are only one of them each, but father and I are…" It took a moment for him to count, much to Senior's chagrin, but his figures were accurate in the end. "…two! We should get double the time!"  
  
"The vapid Cro-Magnon has a point," Long agreed distastefully, as if the mere thought of acknowledging an idea from the younger Senior left a bitter tang on his tongue. "Our numbers should afford us more time."  
  
"Logically." Falchion piped in.  
  
"Quite." Claymore interjected.  
  
Growling and quaking with frustration, Drakken exploded, "Look, flunkies and genetic accidents don't count! Every group gets five minutes!" He crushed the notepad in his anger, shaking it at the protesting groups. "If you don't like it, then you can just go suck lemons!"  
  
The argument exploded anew and expanded into a full-fledged fistfight. Kim sighed, watching the orgy of blows with acute boredom. She noticed that Will, who had awoken several hours ago, seemed to share her sentiment. It was too bad she had found out what a lying little creep he really was; She could have used someone to talk to before the psychotic group of chest-beating apes did her in.  
  
"Some legion," Will muttered.  
  
Shego still guarded the prisoners, and afforded him a smug smile. "I wouldn't get impatient if I were you," she told him, igniting a fistful of green plasma beneath his chin. He flinched, craning his neck to escape the uncomfortable heat. "'Cause as soon as they're done…"  
  
One of Drakken's henchmen cautiously approached the brawl and tapped his boss on the shoulder. "Doctor Drakken," he said meekly, "You wanted to know when the rocket…I mean, Drak Force Five was ready for launch."  
  
Drakken removed his teeth impatiently from Killigan's thigh and looked back at the lowly peon. "…and?" he demanded.  
  
"Um…Drak Force Five is ready for launch."  
  
The fight broke up immediately. Former enemies began helping each other up as Drakken crowed, "Excellent!" Pushing and nudging, he drove his Legionnaires back over to stand before Kim Possible and Will Du. Upon a silent command, a small platform of controls rose from the floor, allowing Drakken access to the rocket's command functions and his prisoners at the same time.  
  
"I think it best if we forgo the villainous gloating." Long offered humbly. "At least for the moment."  
  
Kim felt her innards clench with fear as the rest of the nodded. Even Senior, the staunch traditionalist, seemed to accept it as best. 'No,' she thought, 'I need more time!' There had to be something she was missing, some way of getting free. She couldn't fail, she couldn't let it end like this! Everyone on the planet was counting on her, and with every keystroke that Drakken's needle-like fingers made, she could feel herself failing them again and again.  
  
After a moment of typing, his scarred mug curled into a smirk. "With one push of a button, we end the old world and begin anew…as gods." His smile was unbearable as he brought the full force of it down upon Kim. "No heroes left. No one to stop us. Nothing to stand in our way!" he howled victoriously, thrusting his arms high into the air. "I can almost taste the victory!"  
  
"Hey, Little Boy Blue!" a shrill, cocky shout echoed from above. Drakken looked up at the gantry system and saw a young girl about Kim's age, with dark chocolate skin and eyes, and long dreadlocks bunched together that flowed down her back. She hefted a wrench from an open toolkit nearby and hurled it with all her might.   
  
The tool flew straight and true, striking Drakken full across the mouth. He went down hard as the blow snapped his head to the side and down onto the deck. "I didn't know victory tasted like pennies…" he drooled dizzily against the metal plating.  
  
The rest of the Legion was in an instant uproar as Monkey Fist, Killigan, Shego, Falchion and Claymore led an armada of henchmen up the stairs and onto the criss-crossing catwalks. The metal walkways trembled and shook with their thunderous charge as they split their forces, coming at the intruder from all sides.  
  
Monique gulped, unconsciously tugging at her revealing, stretchy shirt. 'So far so good, hero,' she thought to herself. Her hands scrambled as she reached for the grapple gun hooked to her large, heavy brown pack. Breathing a silent prayer, she launched the grapple with a violent jerk of the gun. Miraculously, the hook latched onto the gantry across from her. Just as the hoard of angry bad guys was about to converge on her, she leapt off of the railing and into free space, suspended only by the thin cable.  
  
Kim couldn't believe her eyes or her ears as her fashion-conscious friend swung down to the floor with a piercing, terrified shriek. "Monique?" she breathed with a mixture of incredulity and sympathy as she watched Mon plow into the floor, landing in a heap not ten feet away from the rest of Kim's captors.  
  
"Oh man," Mon groaned, pulling her own foot out of her face as she collapsed into a thousand aches and pains. "I do 'not' recommend that."  
  
Drakken had mostly recovered with a little help from Senior as the rest of the villain's team flew back down the stairs. Shego and Fist simply jumped, landing and capturing Monique with ease. "So," Drakken slurred, still listing from side to side as he maintained a weak stance. "You thought you could defeat me, did you? Well…who are you, anyway?"  
  
"Fashion Police," Monique spat at him, held at bay by Shego and Monkey Fist. "And honey, maybe nobody told you, but blue is out."  
  
Shego shot Kim a contemptuous glare. "Does this belong to you?" she snarled.  
  
Kim was still open-mouthed with utter shock. On a list of things she had been expecting, this rated somewhere between Bonnie acting nice and the Tweebs becoming Joint Chiefs of Staff. "Monique, what are you doing here?" she called out.  
  
Her friend shrugged. "I'm here to rescue you," she said, then added, "Though the scuba diving alone was worth it. What a rush!" Her eyes danced with the excitement from her descent down into the cold, deep waters.  
  
"Well, 'Monique'," Senior raised a brow, smirking at their third captured teen of the day, "I'd say you have failed miserably."  
  
"Oh no," she retorted coolly, "I didn't."  
  
"You must be joking." Long insisted.  
  
"Aye," Killigan snapped with a twitch in his eye, "In a few moments, we'll be rulers of th' world!"  
  
"Mm-hmm," Monique hummed, examining her nails. "All part of the plan."  
  
She cried out as Shego spun her in place, planting her face in her captive's. "You want to start making sense," Shego said with poisoned honey dripping from her voice. Her hand caught fire with a deadly green glow, which she brought dangerously close to Monique's face. "Now."  
  
"It's simple, really." Mon shrugged again, smiling despite the grim situation. "See, since I can't really fight, we figured I'd make a bon-diggity distraction."  
  
Drakken's eyes shot open as the words forced sensibility to flood back into his battered brain. His head snapped over to the security console on the far side of the room. No one was close enough to reach it in time…no one, that is, except for the familiar figure already operating its controls.  
  
Kim's heart stopped at the flash of corn-blonde hair, the familiar clothes and mysterious backpack, and pale freckled skin as the figure looked back their way. It couldn't be…could it? "Ron?" she breathed.  
  
"Nooooooooo!" Drakken howled as Ron threw an enormous switch in the center of the console. Kim and Will's bonds snapped open immediately, releasing the two GJ agents from incarceration. They wasted no time; Kim sprang forward and leapt up in a double-snap kick that caught Shego and Fist beneath their chins. As they flew back, the heroine landed gracefully in a crouch, then burst forward, pausing only long enough to grab Monique and drag her along. Will was right behind her as they joined Ron across the room.  
  
"The Buffoon?" Long snarled, even as his comrades drew their fiery swords.  
  
"Ron Stoppable?" Senior shook his cane at the new addition to their battlefield. "This cannot go unanswered!"  
  
A chill seemed to emanate off of Ron's very spirit as he stared down the entire Legion. "So not the drama." he said.  
  
"Boo-yah," Kim grinned. Her smile soon faltered; Try as she might, she couldn't catch Ron's eye. Wit ha grim face frozen on his features, he seemed intent on not looking at her. He visibly bristled just at the sound of her voice.  
  
"GET THEM!"  
  
A wall of villainy roared at the teens, cutting out any time for Kim to dwell on Ron's attitude towards her. Ron snared Kim and Will by the shoulders and shoved them hard towards the open double doors that led to the launch silo. On a hunch, he slapped a large red button on the other side that was set into the wall, and was rewarded with a sharp grinding of gears as the heavy blast doors trundled shut. Monique waved and smiled at Drakken's looming, irate face just before the seam slammed closed.  
  
Standing in the shadow of the doomsday weapon, the teens enjoyed a brief respite. Fearsome pounding echoed against the armored door, but the kill switch Ron triggered would keep them out for at least a moment. The towering room stretched high above them before ending in a circular iris hatch at the top. Several gantries criss-crossed above them, much like in the other room, to allow access to different points on the rocket.  
  
"We need a plan," Will panted. His eyes darted about with panic as he took the room's sparse features into account. "We need back-up. I'll-"  
  
"You," Ron stabbed his finger into Will's chest, tapping at it callously. "Stop talking." He glanced between the GJ agents, then back at the door. "We have a plan. It's already started."  
  
"What do you think is keeping them?" Monique asked, oblivious to Kim and Will's confused looks. "We should have-"  
  
"We'll have to buy them more time." Ron stated flatly. "Mon, take Will. Try to stall them. I think I saw another access hatch above. Kim and I will-"  
  
"Hold on," Will sneered, butting in and shoving Ron back. He ignored the look of fearsome hatred that flashed in Ron's eyes as he stared the amateur down. "Who put you in charge? I'm the senior agent here, and I demand to know-"  
  
"Shut UP, Will!" Kim snapped. Will looked shocked, as if she had punched him in the stomach, but she pointedly ignored him. Turning to Ron, she forced aside her other feelings and put herself into the business at hand. "What about us?"  
  
Though his face didn't change, Ron nodded in appreciation. "You and I will disarm this firecracker," he told her grimly. To Monique, he added, "Don't forget to seal the hatch behind you."  
  
Monique nodded and ran for the ladder that would take her up a level. Will shot Ron one last look of disbelief, but the former sidekick's resolve did not break, so he quickly followed his new partner and grumbled with every step.  
  
"So," Kim sighed, gazing up at the rocket, "Any idea on how to disarm this thing? I don't know how to do it, and unless you've been taking night classes, I'm pretty sure you don't either."  
  
"I don't." Ron uttered, digging through his pocket. He pulled out a small, smooth piece of nostalgia that almost brought tears of joy to Kim's eyes. "But I know someone who does." He looked up, spotting Mon and Will as they clanked across the catwalk. "We need to-"  
  
A dark blur of green and black dropped from the sky, landing soundlessly behind Ron. Kim's mouth opened in warning a moment too late as a black glove wrapped around his throat, and a strong arm pinned him back.  
  
"Hi," Shego sneered over Ron's shoulder. Her hand released Ron's throat, but hovered nearby with a faint green glow about it. "Why don't we head back in so we can all get a front row seat to Drakken's fireworks, m'kay?"  
  
"Put him down, Shego," Kim said with velvet steel lining her tone. She took several steps forward, but stopped cold as the blaze from Shego's hand grew stronger. "You can't stop both of us."  
  
"I don't' have to, Kimmie." Shego smiled. "You wouldn't let anything happen to your little friend here."  
  
Kim's eyes darted between their faces. Ron was seized with a new apprehension as Shego's power nipped at his neck, but he didn't cry out. "Kim," he said slowly, "Pick up the Kimmunicator and run."  
  
"Ron, I'm not-"  
  
"For once in your stupid, perfect life, will you just LISTEN to me?" he exploded. Ron tried to struggle free, but Shego's grip was firm. Small, painful welts swelled on his neck as her deadly fingers brushed against the sensitive skin. He winced, but made no sound.  
  
"Aw," Shego cooed, running a free (unlit) finger up and down Ron's cheek. He trembled at her touch, aching to do something, wanting to shout at Kim again before it was too late, but he didn't dare. "How cute. A little lover's spat, huh?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Kim demanded with narrowed eyes. Shego wasn't usually the kind to play mind games with her…maybe she was getting desperate. Or maybe she was just supremely confident; Will and Monique had already disappeared through the hatch above. She could hear the sounds of the battle coming through the thick door, and had to suppress a stab of fear for her other friends as they fought impossible odds.  
  
"Oh, don't play games, Kimmie. It doesn't suit you." Shego snorted. Then she paused a moment, examining Kim's confused, frightened features. A realization suddenly hit the villainess, bringing with it a wave of mirth. Her shoulders began shaking in a soft chuckle, which jiggled her arm enough to give Ron a few more painful burns across his throat. "You really don't know, do you?" Shego asked between laughs.  
  
"Know what?" Kim shot. Hostage or no hostage, she wasn't about to take crap from the likes of Shego. She never had, and she didn't plan on starting. "What are you babbling-"  
  
"I thought you knew," Shego laughed, gripping Ron even tighter. His brown pack pressed into her stomach as her iron muscles kept him in place. She let her burning hand trace a line down his chest, burning a red streak into his skin and ruining his shirt. This time, he couldn't stop the hiss of agony that escaped between his teeth. Shego caught sight of Kim's helpless anger and sympathy for her friend, which made her next words all the more delicious.  
  
"He's in love with you."  
  
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	13. Penultimate, Part 2

=All-Purpose Disclaimer=  
  
Cyberwraith! Cyberwraith!  
  
Friendly neighborhood Cyberwraith!  
  
Writes the fics! Saves the day!  
  
Makes no cash anyway!  
  
Hey now!  
  
Can't sue that Cyberwraith!  
  
================================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
================================================================================  
  
The cavernous launch bay echoed with Shego's cruel words, bouncing them again and again into Kim's perfectly sculpted ears like a broken record. Any thoughts Kim had prior to that-of rescuing Ron, of stopping the rocket, of saving life as the world knew it-vanished in an instant. In their place came a haunting silence that froze her to the floor. She couldn't move or act as she was forced to listen to the vile villainess.  
  
"This isn't funny, Shego," Kim spat uneasily. Her usual confident attitude was shattered. Only a ghost of her former self existed in her voice.  
  
Shego sneered, making Ron flinch again with her deadly green glow. "I'm not joking around, Kimmie," she assured her teen arch-nemesis. "I can read your little clown's face like a book, and it reads like a crummy romance novel."  
  
Kim's eyes flickered to Ron's questioningly. His face silently screamed for her to run and finish the job. But there was something else present…something he wouldn't quite let Kim reach, no matter how deep she looked. What was he hiding? Could Shego be right?  
  
"You must've been blind to miss it all this time, Hero." Shego continued to taunt her opponent, unaware of the unspoken communication between Ron and Kim. "He tags along wherever you go, following you across the globe like a puppy-"  
  
"Shut. Up." Kim growled. Her fingers curled tightly at her sides, shaking with a building rage. "Just shut up!"  
  
The baddie's grin grew wider still. "And you had no idea, did you? Oh, how cute!" she laughed derisively. "That's just adorable! I bet you even replaced him with that bucket-head without a second thought, didn't you? I've seen this moron risk his life for you, and you dump him aside like the garbage he is."  
  
"SHUT UP!" Kim roared, screwing her eyes shut. When she opened them again, a green fire burned within them with intensity far greater than Shego's power could ever hope to match, fueled by a great rage and a hidden shame. "STOP IT!"  
  
"So what's stopping you now, Kimmie?" Shego's eyes glanced up at the catwalk, then back at the fuming redhead. "Run along and disarm Drakken's stupid toy. I'll just take care of your excess sidekick problem right now." She drew a finger across Ron's throat as she kissed him on the cheek. "All you have to do is leave little Ronnie all alone."  
  
Ron spoke up at last, grunting in disgust at her wet kiss to hide the pain her burning fingers inflicted. "I'm not alone." he uttered. His eyes narrowed with determination, and twitched each time her gloves grew too close. "I'm never alone."  
  
"Let me guess," she rolled her eyes, scoffing at Ron's heroic cliché. "You keep love in your heart, blah, bu-blah, bu-blah." She waved her free hand in the air, sighing in disgust. "Boh-ring!"  
  
"Nothing even close to that lame." he replied coolly.  
  
Stabbing pain lanced through Shego's leg without warning. She yelped and flinched reflexively, accidentally releasing her hold on Ron. "Gyah!" Swiping at her leg, she caught hold of something pink and blobbish, and brought it to her face. Rufus grinned, flashing razor-sharp incisors that had been buried in her thigh a second ago. "You rotten little-"  
  
Ron's elbow crashed into her chin, snapping her had back. She staggered, then caught the full force of his spin kick at her temple. Her vision rushed with black, and the rest was blissful silence.  
  
"Finally," Ron muttered, lowering his leg and relaxing his stance. He touched delicately at his throat, hissing as his fingers met with seared flesh. "I thought she was going to turn me into crispy strips…"  
  
"Ron!" Kim rushed forward to capture Ron in a tremendous hug. But Ron ignored her, and bent down to retrieve the forgotten Kimmunicator. Shunned, hurt and worried all at once, Kim tried to examine his throat, but he wouldn't let her touch him. "Are you-"  
  
He held up a hand and said the two words he had never used with her before. "Shut up." As her jaw snapped shut with shock, he pressed an ear up against the blast doors they had retreated through. "Do you hear that?"  
  
Pushing aside her indignation, Kim strained with all her might, but couldn't hear anything. "No."  
  
"Mon and Will…" Ron trailed off ominously.   
  
Then, without warning, a series of red lights began flashing in the launch bay, bathing the teens in intermittent crimson. The floor beneath them shook violently, nearly toppling the two of them. Kim retained her footing only because of Ron's steadying hand.  
  
"Thanks," she said to his stony features. She might as well have been expressing gratitude to a brick wall. "What was that?"  
  
Ron checked his watch, balancing carefully as the lair continued to tremble. Rufus tried to steady himself on his buddy's shoulder. "A little behind schedule," he muttered, "But not bad…" A sudden force began pushing down on the pair. It was the feeling Kim got when she rode the lift up in GJ's warehouse. "We're…rising? But who-?"  
  
"Mon and I were a little shorthanded," Ron said dismissively as he examined the rocket. "We needed an extra set of hands with some technical savvy, so…"  
  
Kim's eyes grew wide with fresh terror. "Oh no." she murmured.  
  
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Drakken's henchmen sat helplessly, bound in the far corner of the lair's central control room with thick ropes and gags. They could only watch in helplessness as their captors, who had taken them completely by surprise, bounced across the controls in a pair of rolling chairs.  
  
As the lair began to rumble and quake, a broad smile split Jim's smug face. "I think we got it to surface," he told his brother, tugging at his unfamiliar black and khaki mission clothes.  
  
"Sweet," Tim echoed his twin's grin before turning back to the console. His gloved hands danced across Drakken's myriad controls. "Now let's get communications on-line."  
  
"Outstanding!" they harmonized, running through the lair's hundreds of functions as they searched for the right ones. In a few moments, their numbers would jump from six to…well, a lot more.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Kim followed Ron up the ladder, trying to hold on as the lair continued to shake. "I can't believe you brought them along. Are you completely insane?"  
  
"No," he grunted, pulling himself onto the lowest catwalk, "Just desperate and out of options." He hauled Kim up with a helping hand, and then pressed the Kimmunicator into her palm. "Get to work," he told her shortly.  
  
Kim cried out as he began walking for the upper-level entrance to the adjoining room, where Drakken and the rest were (hopefully) still tangling with Monique and Will. "Wait! Where are you going?"  
  
Ron paused and turned around. "We surface, Drakken gets desperate and launches the rocket. Mon and that partner of yours are in over their heads. Someone has to keep them busy until you defuse the nuke."   
  
She searched and searched, but couldn't find any trace of sarcasm or humor in his face. "But why me?" she insisted. "You're the one with the plan!"  
  
  
  
"Kim…" The teen heroine saw a little of the old Ron return as he exchanged glances with Rufus. "Do you really want me defusing a nuclear warhead?"  
  
  
  
She couldn't help but smile at this. "But I can't do this alone," she said with a tinge of sadness. "I need you…"  
  
  
  
His eyes softened for just a moment. "Anything is possible for a Possible," he reminded her.  
  
  
  
She turned back, taking in the sheer enormity of Drak Force Five with wide eyes. Just being near the devastating tube of metal and uranium, knowing what it could do, sent a jolt of fear running up and down her spine. Even with Ron's faith, she still wasn't certain. "But Ron," she turned back to protest, but Ron was already gone. The heavy hatch was already sealing behind him.  
  
  
  
Kim pivoted with a sigh. Certain or not, she didn't have a choice. She only hoped that Ron was right. Otherwise, the world was in a lot of trouble. "Okay," she breathed, walking quickly towards one of the access hatches on the doomsday weapon. "Let's get started."  
  
  
  
A blur of black and green swung up and around the gantry's railing. It was only Kim's lightning reflexes that saved her from a face full of boot as Shego landed like a cat onto the cold metal grating. "Actually," she said, crouching low with a fearsome scowl, "I thought we'd end this…right here, right now."  
  
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'Anything is possible for a Possible.' The words echoed through Ron's mind as he re-sealed the launch door from the other side. Though the situation seemed hopeless, he knew just how true the axiom was. Life with Kim had proven that a thousand times over.  
  
  
  
He crept silently to the edge of the catwalk. Below him stood a gaggle of supervillains with the other two members of their team in hand. Drakken was already at his control podium, typing furiously as the rest milled about, keeping Monique and Will firmly in place.  
  
  
  
'As for the rest of us,' he added silently, 'We do what we can, and hope the rest falls into place.' Taking a deep breath, he pushed off the edge and fell into open space. Rufus yelped in protest of the sudden freefall, then tumbled away as Ron landed in a shoulder roll on the unforgiving steel plating.  
  
  
  
"You!" Drakken shouted and pointed at the uninvited interloper. Flecks of spittle flew from his frothing mouth as he descended into a blind rage. "How did you take control of my lair?"  
  
  
  
"Magic," Ron scowled, readying his fists as the Legion began advancing on him. "For my next trick, I'm going to turn you all into prison inmates."  
  
  
  
Long sneered at the former sidekick. Though he was still unarmored, he now wielded one of the Knights' trademark swords of fire. Behind him stood his armored comrades, each holding one of Ron's friends in their crimson clutches. "You're a fool, Stoppable." the executive shot at him. "You're unarmed and outnumbered."  
  
  
  
"I hate to say it," Monique groused, "But he has a point." She looked glum, as if the day was already lost.  
  
  
  
"Don't just stand there, you idiot, DO SOMETHING!" Will screamed and squirmed pathetically in Falchion's grip.  
  
  
  
As the Legion came closer, Ron drew a cleansing breath. His eyes fluttered closed as he began blocking out all distractions. The villains' howls and taunts vanished. Gone were Monique's and Will's cries of terror. Even Rufus' worried chatter from his perch on the boy's shoulder faded away as Ron withdrew into a place deep inside himself.  
  
He sat beneath a waterfall in the tranquil hills of Yamanouchi on a cloudless summer day. There were no birds singing overhead, no people for miles to break the peace. The only sound was the wind brushing through the trees, and the rushing of the icy waters as they cleansed his body and soul.  
  
'Master,' Ron's voice echoed through his mind's sanctuary, 'I seek your guidance.' He wasn't certain if he was speaking aloud, or only in his thoughts. Whether he was in a memory or actually back at the ninja academy was a mystery; Sensei always spoke of such things as if they were possible, but an outsider like Ron had never managed it before.  
  
'What is it, my student?' Master Sensei responded calmly. Though Ron's eyes were closed, he could feel his teacher's presence as clearly as his own. Like him, Sensei spoke with an echoing voice that came from everywhere, and yet nowhere, all at the same time.  
  
'There are too many,' Ron explained, letting the waterfall quell his rising worry. He could still feel despair, even in the meditative state beneath the waters. 'I cannot win.'  
  
'Then you have already lost.' Sensei responded. 'Accept your fate and give in.'  
  
'There are others,' Ron told him. 'They're counting on me.' Try as he might, inner peace still eluded him. He could feel it swimming just below the surface of his turbulent thoughts, brushing against his metaphysical hands every so often. Growing desperate, he seized at the peace, but the sharp spike of his emotions only heightened the distance between him and his objective. 'I cannot fail them!'  
  
'Then there are not too many.' Sensei said simply.  
  
'What do you mean?'  
  
As always, the old master's voice was calm and patient, no matter how horrifying the situation grew. Ron had only seconds to act in the real world, but that would not hurry Sensei's lesson in the least. 'You claim there are too many to fight,' he reminded his student, 'Yet you have told me that others are counting on you, and you cannot afford to fail.'  
  
'That's right. It's a bunch against one. Me. And I'm not exactly the best fighter.'  
  
'Numbers are irrelevant, young Stoppable-san, so long as the one is stronger than the many. A thousand drops of rain cannot topple the mighty oak.'  
  
'Yes, but nine villains can topple the sidekick.' Ron retorted as respectfully as he could. 'They're gonna cream me…'  
  
'If you believe it to be so, then it shall be.' Sensei said with an air of finality. Ron could feel his master's presence slipping away as the old man's voice grew distant. 'However,' he added distantly, 'If you shed your former identity of a sidekick…if you fight not for yourself, but for those you love… if you embrace the hero within…then there is no force on earth that can stop you. You will be unstoppable…'  
  
Unstoppable.  
  
Ron's eyes snapped open. What had felt like minutes had actually been only a few seconds; Killigan, Monkey Fist, Falchion, Claymore, Junior and Senior, and even Lucre (with his homemade ray gun) were rushing at him with a ferocious collective snarl. Though the two Roddigan thugs were slowed by their other captives, the rest moved quickly and forcefully, armed with their trademark weapons or, in Fist's case, not at all.  
  
'Am I unstoppable?' Ron thought to himself, faced with the overwhelming odds. 'No.' he decided at last. Nostrils flaring, chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths, the teen adopted a defensive stance. His fists became knives, his feet light as air. Every sense was alive and sharp, telling him each secret the room and his opponents tried to hide from him. Sensei was wrong…or more accurately, mistaken; he was not unstoppable. He was what he had always been.  
  
"I am Ron Stoppable." he murmured. It wasn't much, but he knew now that it would be enough. His memory flashed with dancing red hair, reminding him who and what he was fighting for. Though she would never love him, he knew now that Monique was right; all that mattered was how he felt about her.  
  
Like a monolith against the tide, Ron waited for the villains to reach him.  
  
And he was ready for them.  
  
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Kim ducked beneath Shego's powerful blow. The villainess' fist pounded into the railing, bending it beneath her awesome strength. Rolling to the side, the heroine lashed out with a blow of her own, catching Shego in the ribs and paying her back for the injury she suffered on the Nebraska mission.   
  
"Why are you doing this?" Kim demanded, following up with a crescent kick that slapped across Shego's face. "In a few minutes, Drakken could launch that thing. It'll vaporize us both!"  
  
"Scared, Kimmie?" Shego taunted back. She wiped a thin trail of blood that dribbled from her lip with a smile. "I don't care about Drakken's idiotic plans anyway. I knew he would fail one way or another. I just wanted another shot at you."  
  
"Me?" Kim sidestepped another of Shego's power-packed punches, feeling the green glow burning at her suit. She was growing desperately hot as the fight wore on, and it was starting to tax her. "Taking this awfully personal, aren't you?"  
  
"Face it, girl." Shego brought her other elbow up in a bone-jarring strike that dragged across Kim's face. Kim tumbled back, sprawling onto the gantry in a heap. Her nemesis stood over her haughtily, with hands on hips and sinister sneer firmly in place. "You just don't have the ol' zing anymore. Selling out made you suck."  
  
Kim growled. It was her turn to wipe the blood from her face as she glared up at Shego venomously. "Fine. Let's take this old school." Reaching behind her, she drew the combat knife from her utility belt, gripping the hilt firmly.  
  
Shego caught the glint of steel as Kim reached around. "Ooh," she mocked, making an 'O' shape with her lips. "Scary."  
  
Wordlessly, Kim brought the knife around. She used her other hand to pull at the middle of her uniform, then brought the knife down in a pair of smart, precise slashes, hacking the material apart. The knife went tumbling over the edge as Kim tossed it aside. She tore at the stretchy fabric, ripping it around her waist until a large strip was ripped away, exposing her ivory midriff.  
  
"Finally!" she sighed, standing up and dropping the useless fabric down after the knife. A new life seemed to flow into Kim, as if the source of her powers were returned. "All right Shego," Kim smirked, gesturing at the pale, pasty woman as she got back into her fighting stance. "Let's dance."  
  
Shego's amusement grew as she rushed forward, feet pounding against the metal.  
  
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There was a definite order of power to the natural universe. Tornadoes. Hurricanes. Volcanoes. And now topping the list: Ron Stoppable.  
  
Ron moved like lightning as the first wave of evil reached his position. His stance was deceptively calm, but his muscles had been coiled and ready. Killigan was at the forefront, waving his putter like a club and screaming Scottish obscenities at the teen. Ron spun in place with half-lidded eyes, as if he had just awoken from a long nap. His foot came up an smashed into Killigan's jaw, knocking teeth every which way as the Scotsman was lifted off his feet and back in the direction he had come.  
  
Falchion and Claymore abandoned their captives, tossing them aside as Killigan came flying back. They were able to sidestep the golfer as they rushed Ron, swords raised and licking the air with deadly flames. The two flunkies flanked Ron as they came in from either side, moving and darting, testing the waters. They would not be brought down as easily as Killigan.  
  
Ron ducked beneath Falchion's sword, losing a couple of triangles of blond hair to the blade as he shuffled toward the hilt. With a swift, exacting kick he struck the hand guard, knocking Falchion's blade right into his face. His armored helm melted beneath the intense heat, ruining the electronics and plunging his world into darkness.  
  
As Falchion stumbled around drunkenly, Ron grasped at his hands and swung the sword around while the warrior still held it. Claymore hadn't been expecting an attack from his own comrade, and caught the slash across his chest. Though unhurt, his systems were badly damaged. Sparks flew everywhere, dancing across Ron as he released Falchion and, with a little encouraging push, watched the two swordsmen topple to the ground with a thunderous crash of metal.  
  
"D-Don't move, y-y-you!" Lucre warned him, standing at a distance with his laser cannon leveled at Ron.   
  
Ron rolled to the ground, grabbing a splinter of the Knights' armor as the red beam of death lanced over his head. Before he even got back on his feet, the sharp shard was flying straight for Lucre. The piece lodged into Lucre's barrel just as he was pulling the trigger for a second shot. His conglomeration of tuna cans and vacuum tubes exploded in his face, blowing him a good ten yards back. Ron was back on his feet before Lucre even hit the ground.  
  
Junior and Senior froze in place, looking at the far-superior combatants that had fallen before Stoppable's stone-faced assault. Junior seemed ready to mess his pants right then and there at the thought of taking on Ron, but luckily his father kept a cool head. Just as Junior was about to continue the foolish attack, his old man stopped him with the end of his cane.  
  
"I think it would be wise for us to retreat, Junior." Senior informed his son. He gazed appreciably at Ron, giving the teen hero a tiny nod and a salute. "I applaud you, Ron Stoppable, for your courageous efforts." With that, he did an about-face and led his son away as the station continued to shake.  
  
Ron watched the pair make their cowardly exit out the door, then glanced around at the fallen villains. Apparently, Long had thought much as the Seniors had; he was nowhere to be found, and his sword was abandoned on the floor. As he frowned down at the former threats, he sensed a dangerous presence approaching him from behind. "I wondered when we'd get to you," he said.  
  
Monkey Fist grinned toothily as Ron turned around to face his arch-foe. "I'm actually rather glad the fools fell." he informed the teen. "That way, we have a chance to finish what we keep starting."  
  
The pair began to circle each other, glaring intently into the other's eyes with pure malice. Monkey master pitted against monkey master, ninja to ninja, the two seemed almost evenly matched. Both moved with fluid movements, making no sound on the metal plating. Monkey Fist's bushy hair bristled with ire as Ron's face remained implacably calm.  
  
"You have no chance against me, Stoppable." Monkey Fist snarled and bared his monkey fangs. "We both possess monkey magic, but 'I' am the true monkey master!" Ron said nothing at this, keeping his eyes trained upon the rogue as they went round and round the shaking floor. "Only 'I' possess the skill to properly wield the ancient power!" Ron still would not respond to the bait. "What? No inane chatter? No stupid jokes? Are you actually afraid, Stoppable?"  
  
Ron's gaze flickered only an instant. "Not really," he shrugged. "I'm just letting you babble on like a moron while my partners sneak up on you."  
  
"Oh please." Monkey Fist snorted. "Do you really take me for a-"  
  
Ron would never know what Monkey Fist thought the teen took him for, because a pair of stolen pipes slammed into the sides of his head with a dull, painful thud sound. The hairy ninja's eyes rolled back into his head as he slumped to the ground, revealing the identical set of Ron's rescuers.  
  
"Some ninja." Jim tossed his pipe away as his brother did the same, and looked down at the fallen hairball. "This guy's pretty lame."  
  
"Isn't he your arch-foe, Ron?" Tim asked.  
  
Ron wasn't listening. He rushed over to where Mon and Will lay, and checked on them both. They were slowly stirring, but still seemed very groggy from all the jostling. Ignoring Will completely, Ron helped Monique to her feet. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Getting there, cutie." Mon rubbed her back. "This mission stuff is hard."  
  
"Are you kidding?" Jim exclaimed.  
  
Tim added, "This is awesome!"  
  
Will eyeballed the twins incredulously, standing up with cracking joints and a thousand new aches. "You brought unauthorized minors along? Are you really this stupid?"  
  
Ron's hand snaked out, snaring Will's collar and hauling the agent off of his feet. Their faces drew within an inch of each other as Ron's patience finally broke. "Listen, and listen good, Du." he snapped.  
  
Will never lost his air of arrogance, though his eyes betrayed a hint of fear behind his cool exterior. "What?"  
  
There was a moment of silence between them as Ron breathed heavily, glaring at his rival with unbridled hatred. He wanted to beat the agent within an inch of his life, to pound Will until he became something Kim would never want to see again. But, with Sensei's voice still ringing in his ears, he knew the path he had to take.  
  
"If you hurt her," Ron said in a low, even tone, "I will hurt you."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." Will insisted. He tried to break Ron's grip, and was surprised to find it stronger than steel. No matter how hard he pushed or struggled, he couldn't get free.  
  
"One tear." Ron told him. "That's all it will take." He didn't care that Mon, Jim and Tim were watching the showdown in confusion and horror. "Make her cry once, and you will have to look in a thesaurus to write the new definition of pain I'll give you."  
  
"If it's pain you're looking for," a familiar voice cackled from above, "I'd be happy to oblige."  
  
Abandoning their useless male posturing, Ron and Will looked up in unison. There, lowering down from the ceiling on a quartet of mechanical tentacles, was one of the biggest battle robots either of them had ever seen. And who should be at the controls of the metal titan? None other than Doctor Drakken himself, protected by some sort of roll cage as he sat within its armored protection.  
  
"Hello boys," Drakken greeted them cheerily. "Did you miss me?" His goliath touched down, sending a quake through the deck that nearly toppled the irritating intruders that had nearly foiled his plans. The tentacles retracted back into the ceiling as he sent the battle suit forward, pounding against the metal floor with surprising speed. "How do you like it? I'll have to thank the Seniors for the funding."  
  
"Oh, good golly Miss Molly," Monique whispered as an armada of weapons extended from the battle bot and pointed their way.  
  
"Ah, I almost forgot. Since we are surfaced…" Drakken fiddled with his controls for a moment. An instant after that, the red lights that had flashed when the station was surfacing returned, this time with a soft, feminine voice reminding them to get clear of the launch area. "There. In two minutes, the world will at last know the wrath of Doctor Drakken!"  
  
Will looked about wildly as the vocalized countdown started from two minutes and ran backwards at a steady, terrifying beat. In front of them, Drakken and his war machine continued to advance. A dull blue glow was growing in each of his weapons' barrels, which had zeroed in on the four teens. There was nowhere to run, nothing they could use to pierce Drakken's armored shell, and a countdown that would end all too soon. "Okay…nobody panic…" he muttered uselessly, succumbing to fear even as he coached the others not to. "Nobody…What do we do? What do we DO?"  
  
"Will, shut up!" Monique hissed, backing away slowly. It didn't matter; in a moment, their backs would be to the wall anyhow.  
  
"It's hopeless! We have no back-up, no weapons! We're doomed!" Will cried.  
  
Ron's fist silenced will mercifully. The agent slumped forward, unconscious, into Ron's waiting arms. "Jim, Tim," he barked quickly, "Did you guys…"  
  
"Don't worry, Ron," Jim winked.  
  
"Help is on the way," Tim assured him.  
  
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Six heavily armed F-14 Tomcats winged over the Pacific ocean at near-mach speeds, homing in on a specific signal. Flying US naval colors, the fighter jets had orders to rendezvous with a civilian team at these coordinates, and provide assistance as needed. Far behind them, a troop carrier was being escorted by the other half of their squadron. It was up to them to clear the way.  
  
Lieutenant Chip Barkan flew lead, keeping a tight handle on his control yoke as he checked his instrumentation. He and his men had been skeptical at first, but after hearing who the civilians were, they had jumped at the chance. Chip still remembered the stories his uncle used to tell him about Kim Possible, and all the trouble she brought with her to his sleepy little school. Anyone that could infuriate his Uncle Steve like that was someone worth meeting.  
  
"Lead, this is Screaming Pelican Two."  
  
"Go ahead, two." Chip spoke into his mask.  
  
"I have visual confirmation on the target at one o'clock low, Angel zero. It appears to be…some kind of villainous lair, sir."  
  
Chip dipped his nose a little, checking out his XO's sighting. Indeed, there was a strange, dome-like structure floating out in the middle of nowhere. A circular hatch had opened up in the middle, but they were too far to see what could be inside.  
  
"Confirmed, Two. Screaming Pelicans, stay on this vector until we receive a signal."  
  
"Lead, this is Three." His communications specialist. "I'm receiving an automated signal right now, sir."  
  
"What's it say, Three?" Chip asked via the comm.  
  
"It…appears to be in some sort of code, sir." His other wingman sounded extremely confused and embarrassed. "It seems they want us to disable the facility, but what does 'Hoo Sha' mean?"  
  
Feeling a rush of adrenalated excitement, Chip brought his weapons on-line. "I don't know, Three, but we're going to do the first part. Screaming Pelicans, prepare for a strafing run. Don't sink it, but I want it broken."  
  
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Ron nodded, then shoved Will into the twins' hands. "Good job. Now get out of here, and take this buttercup with you."  
  
"Awwwwwwww,"  
  
"We wanted to stay for the battle!"  
  
"No arguments, remember? Get going!" Ron pointed firmly. Heaving a sigh, the two took up Will's head and feet and began jogging awkwardly with the burden, muttering and complaining all the way. Satisfied, Ron glanced over at Monique. She didn't need to be told twice.  
  
"Be careful, Ron," she whispered, and kissed him on the cheek.  
  
"You too." Ron gave her a small smile before watching her take off in a sprint after the twins.  
  
Drakken tracked the sub-sidekicks' movements with his weapons as they tried to escape. The monitor in front of him registered a clean kill. He grinned, and prepared to squeeze down on the trigger, when a metallic ping blasted right next to his ear. "What the-"  
  
"Hey!" Ron shouted from down at his feet. He picked up another piece of metallic flotsam and chucked it, bouncing the bit right next to Drakken's ear again. Rufus stood on his shoulder and raspberried the villain, waving his tail in a taunting manner. "Old, Blue and Ugly! Down here!"  
  
Drakken shifted his focus immediately. The weapons on his enormous suit retracted, fitting back into their hidden compartments as he glared down at the arrogant ant at his ankles. "I'd rather squash you anyhow, Buffoon!" he bellowed. The mechanical monster's foot raised off of the ground and then descended upon Ron, who barely rolled out of the way in time. The entire floor shook with the blow so violently that Drakken himself was hard-pressed to stay upright.  
  
"Okay," Ron muttered as he began to run, with Drakken close behind him. "The good news is, he's chasing us. That means Mon and the twins can get to safety."  
  
"Uh-huh," Rufus agreed readily from his shoulder, clinging tightly as the floor continued to quake with Drakken's eager steps.  
  
"The bad news," the boy countered, "Is that he's chasing us. That means…well, it means he's chasing us."  
  
Rufus nodded worriedly. "Uh-huh…" he moaned again.  
  
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The flashing lights and ominous countdown scared Kim more than Shego ever could, even as she ducked another shot from the villainess' fists. With her belly now exposed, it was as if she were a whole new Kim. She kicked Shego in the stomach once, twice, three times, and followed up with a vicious uppercut as the older woman staggered.  
  
"Are you even listening?" Kim demanded, pointing up at the ceiling, and the unseen voice within. "We have thirty seconds!"  
  
Shego leaned heavily against the catwalk, gasping and puffing. "I guess…you're right…" she panted. "On the one hand…I hate you. I hate you so much." She straightened as she regained her equilibrium, glaring at Kim. "But on the other, I have an extreme and healthy love for myself."  
  
Kim glared right back at her. "I'm not leaving until this thing is deactivated," she told Shego. "It'll probably kill me anyway."  
  
"Works for me." Shego leapt backwards into a series of handsprings that took her towards the door. "See you later, Kimmie! If you aren't crispy-fried, that is!"  
  
Kim watched her go for a moment, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. "Finally," she sighed, and turned back.   
  
Any relief she had felt at Shego's retreat melted away at the sight of the rocket, which was already rumbling in pre-launch eagerness. There were fifteen seconds left on the clock; not even she could disarm a nuclear weapon in that kind of time.  
  
Glancing at the open hatch a few yards in front of her, she set her features in grim determination. "Guess we'll have to improvise," she said, sprinting for the entrance to the deadly missile with only seconds left on the clock. With expert grace she dove into the hatch, catching it with her toe so it slammed shut behind her, automatically sealing as she hoped it would.  
  
The interior of the rocket was cramped, and extremely dark. Searching from memory, she drew a small lamp from her utility belt and clicked it on. Wires and pipes surrounded her on all sides, hissing and trembling as the rocket prepared for take-off.  
  
Wasting no time, Kim drew out the Kimmunicator…'her' Kimmunicator, and flicked the switch. A most welcome sight greeted her on the other end of the connection, a sight with his ever-present soda cup in hand.  
  
"Kim!" Wade cried out, tossing his drink aside. "I've been waiting for you! What happened? The rocket's set to launch in ten seconds!"  
  
"No time, Wade. I'm inside."  
  
It took two precious seconds for Wade to realize what she was talking about. "…the ROCKET?"  
  
"I'll have to disable it en-route, and before we get over land. Start telling me how-"  
  
The rocket's shaking increased tenfold as a deafening boom echoed through the metal tube. Kim had to slam her hands over her hears, and hoped that she wouldn't be completely deaf as the rocket began to lift off.  
  
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Drakken stomped at the puny little sidekick, trying with all his mechanical might to turn him into liquefied jelly on the bottom of his size forty-three feet. "Hold still, blast you!" Drakken howled, working his controls in frenzy.  
  
Ron danced to the side, narrowly avoiding yet another squashing attempt. "Well," he muttered, "Since you asked so nicely…" Despite his bravado, he knew he couldn't keep it up forever. His heavy backpack was slowing him down a little, and bringing early fatigue to the already drawn-out fight. Rufus was in a panic on his shoulder. The poor little guy was jiggling and morphing with fright, unable to hold his shape at…  
  
Wait a minute.  
  
Drakken watched Ron skid to a halt. A devilish smile grew on the mad scientist's face as he locked eyes with the sidekick, and raised the foot of his tremendous mech. "You can't win, Buffoon." Drakken consoled him sardonically as he prepared to take him from this world and launch him into the next. "I'm smarter than you, bigger than you, and better than you'll ever be. It was really just a matter of-"  
  
Ron's hand worked with deadly accuracy, hurling a new projectile straight for the cab of the mech. The tiny ball of pink flew right through the roll bars and struck Drakken in the face. Everything immediately went black for the villain as a wave of pinkish semi-liquid covered his eyes.  
  
"AAAAHHH! Get it OFF!" he screamed, tugging at the blob. Try as he might, it wouldn't come off. It was clinging to him somehow, and…chuckling?  
  
"Good work, Rufus!" Ron gave his little pal a thumbs-up as the naked mole blob shlupped over Drakken's eyes. His little face bobbed up and down, grinning and laughing as Drakken uselessly pulled at his edges.   
  
Looking up, Ron smiled in silent thanks that Drakken's mech's leg was still raised in preparation for a stomp. The former sidekick took a few steps back, then launched himself in a flying kick. Though the robot was tremendous, Ron managed to place the kick at its wide, boxy hips. He put all his focus, all his energy, and brought it into his foot as it struck the flat, armored metal.  
  
Drakken's war machine wobbled for a second, then fell. Ron could almost hear the creaking sound of a tree falling before the mech struck the floor with the deafening clash of metal on metal. He fought to keep his balance as the floor shook violently, then ran and jumped atop the prone machine, running up its length until he reached the control cab.  
  
"Ah-hah! Gotcha!" Drakken finally pulled Rufus off of his face. The creature snapped back into his original shape as he left the scientist's features. "I've got you now, you little pest!"  
  
Ron reached in, grasping at Drakken's blue lapels and hauling the scientist halfway out of the roll cage. "Funny," he growled, "That's 'my' line."  
  
"EEP!"  
  
"Drop the rodent." Drakken obeyed, releasing Rufus. The mole rat bounded atop the mechanical terror (now significantly less terrifying) and climbed back into Ron's pocket. "You're out of friend and out of toys, Drakken."  
  
An ear-splitting, thunderous explosion shook the entire lair from behind the two of them. Both turned in unison, and adopted appropriate expressions; Ron with horror, and Drakken with undiluted joy.  
  
"Hah!" Drakken crowed right in Ron's face. "Drak Force Five is already in the air! There's nothing you can do to stop it now."  
  
Ron felt an unbelievable loss hit his system. Kim had been in that room, but now he could only see fire through the armored glass. She was… Rage flooded through him as he felt tears stinging at his eyes. He turned back to Drakken, drawing his fist up. A very small sense of satisfaction sparked amongst his pain as he watched Drakken realize what was about to happen.  
  
"Then I guess there's nothing to stop me from turning your face into abstract art." Ron growled.  
  
Drakken's sniveling returned immediately as he clasped his hands together. "Please," he begged, "Don't hurt me! After I rule the world, I…I'll make you fire chief!"  
  
Ron was about to take his vengeance on Drakken's features when his own Kimmunicator beeped. He pulled the exact duplicate of Kim's favorite omni-tool from his pocket and thumbed the control. "WHAT?" he snarled.  
  
"Ron," Wade seemed absolutely panicked as he typed like a madman, pulling up specifications on the missile and its deadly cargo. "Kim's on the rocket!"  
  
"…what?" Kim was alive? It wasn't possible! 'But then again,' he reminded himself, 'Remember who we're talking about.'  
  
"She's on that thing! She's trying to disarm it in mid-flight. And Ron…she doesn't have any way of getting down."  
  
Doubt filled Ron's eyes as he looked back and forth between the now-empty silo and Drakken's pathetic face. Sighing in disgust, he tossed the villain away, letting Drakken fall to the distant floor below before hopping down himself. He checked the harness of his backpack, now extremely glad that he had thought to bring it along.  
  
Drakken hauled himself to his feet, shaking off the dizziness of his fall. "You think you're all that, Buffoon!" he cried, "But you're not! I win! Me!" A distant sound like thunder echoed through the metal facility, pausing Drakken's ranting. "What was that?" he asked with a sinking feeling.  
  
"That would be the US military bombing the crap out of your house." Ron said as he stalked towards the blast doors. With nothing left to protect, they opened easily at his command, sliding apart to reveal the scorched remains of a dozen catwalks and other now-useless equipment. "In about two minutes, you'll be up to your eyeballs in Navy SEALS. I'd start working on a reception for them, if I were you." He turned back, shooting the mad scientist a glare of pure hate. "They can be real nasty if you're not polite."  
  
And with that, Ron disappeared behind the closing blast doors. Drakken sunk to his knees, feeling the familiar ebb of failure work its way through his thoughts. "I wonder if SEALS like cookies…" he muttered in his delirium.  
  
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Kim reminded herself to thank Drakken after she beat the holy snot out of him; the scientist had insulated the interior of his missile, probably to protect its delicate innards. It was lucky for her, since it meant she probably wouldn't suffer any permanent hearing loss after this. As it was, she had to turn the volume on her Kimmunicator up to max just to hear Wade's voice over the roar of the rocket boosters.  
  
"Okay," Wade shouted into the link, "First things first, you have to disable the Pulson Detonator. That way, whatever juice Drakken's trying to spread across the Midwest will burn up when the missile explodes."  
  
Kim began climbing, worming her way between the snaking conduits and hoses with great difficulty as she worked her way to the nose of the craft. It wasn't easy, but she managed it in under thirty seconds. It was amazing what a little panic could do to one's performance time. "Okay," she said, reaching the small black box of technology, "I'm there."  
  
"See the switch next to the blinking light?" She did indeed, noting the small red illumination on the far side of the Detonator. At her nod, Wade continued, "Flip it."  
  
She did so, and watched as the light ceased its flashing. She waited a moment for further instruction, but there was none. "That's it?" she shouted above the din.  
  
"Easy, huh?" Wade smiled. "Now, go about ten feet down. That's probably where he moved the nuclear warhead's guts. It'll look like metal linguini."  
  
She found the radioactive warhead, and proceeded to follow Wade's instructions to the letter. Even with her quick hands and quicker mind (not to mention Wade's brilliance), it took several minutes to make sure that when the rocket exploded, it wouldn't spread nuclear junk halfway across the planet. "Done." she said.  
  
"Okay." Wade nodded. "Now, just cut the fuel line and get out of there."  
  
"Um…" she glanced at her techno-buddy worriedly. "If I cut the fuel line, isn't that gonna…you know, turn this itty-bitty space into wall-to-wall fire?"  
  
"You remember that insulation?" She nodded, and Wade continued, "The interior is totally sealed. You'll get a good dose of rocket fuel if you aren't fast enough, but the engine's should flame-out pretty quick."  
  
"You rock, Wade. See you soon." Kim cut the connection, then began climbing down. A few seconds later, she had reached the hatch where she had entered, noting a large lever on the inside of the door that would open it. Looking back, it was easy to spot the main fuel line of the rocket.  
  
Wedging herself with her back against the door, Kim kept one hand firmly on the latch. Her other reached into her utility belt, pulling out a razor-sharp shiruken. Kim closed her eyes for a moment, breathing a silent prayer to the Powers That Be to let her survive the craziest stunt she could ever remember pulling. Then, at the same time, she threw the throwing star and pushed down on the lever behind her.  
  
The hatch blew open with explosive force, ripping her out of the craft and into the open air. Kim felt the terrible heat of the rocket's engines as it flew up above her. She had been lucky that the sudden decompression had carried her out of the rocket's path quick enough to avoid getting roasted. Then, with a great sense of pride, she watched the rocket's engines sputter and die. The titanic tube of metal wobbled a moment, then dipped and began its long descent to the ground.  
  
Her mission complete, Kim's mind turned to more immediate concerns. She flipped over and looked down at the sprawling blue ocean below her. The air was extremely thin; she could already feel herself fading away as blackness nipped at the edges of her vision. Wind and air whistled in her ears and tore at her skin as she plummeted like a stone, reaching terminal velocity in a matter of moments. And with a sickening feeling, Kim Possible, the girl who could do anything, realized that there was still one ability beyond her grasp:  
  
She could not fly.  
  
Her lungs heaved, trying to get enough oxygen to her brain to keep her awake, but there simply wasn't enough at that altitude to do the job. As she felt herself slipping away, she was comforted to know that she wouldn't be awake when her body struck the water below, for the blow would surely liquefy every last part of her. It wasn't a sensation she wished to experience.  
  
A stupor settled over her brain, quelling most of her fearful thoughts. She knew what was going to happen, but she was not afraid. Instead, she felt only remorse for the things she had not done yet…and foremost on that long, long list was a talk she had meant to have with a certain blond for quite some time now. But it was too late… She knew rescue wasn't coming. Though in the midst of her delirium, she thought she saw a small dot of light climbing from Drakken's distant dome and rising towards her.  
  
'Must be my imagination.' she thought dreamily, watching the dot zip through the air.  
  
If it was, then Kim possessed a powerful imagination indeed; she watched the dot grow into a full figure, clad in black and wearing a rocket pack with extended wings on either side. The figure rose to meet her, staring intently at her as he reached her height. Immediately, he cut his thrusters, and began to fall with her.  
  
Dimly, Kim squinted at her imaginary savior, trying to see him through the tears that the vicious wind tore from her eyes. She thought she saw locks of blond hair and freckles beneath his translucent visor as he reached out for her, wrapping her in his arms and holding her close. The warmth of his body made her shiver in delight. She clung tightly to him, not caring whether he was real or not, merely glad she had something to hold onto as she faded from reality.  
  
Ron activated his thrusters, confident that he had both of them. The jetpack he had been lugging around the entire mission now began to pull its weight (and the two teens' as well), slowing their descent as they plummeted towards Drakken's now-harmless dome. Down below his feet, Ron could see the Screaming Pelicans winging about in a series of flybys, securing the perimeter and making sure that none of Drakken's associates escaped. He checked on his precious cargo; Kim seemed out of it, but she was still breathing and didn't appear hurt. And for that, he was thankful.  
  
Kim's head swam as she felt their fall suddenly slow to a more tolerable rate. Dizzily, she looked up at her savior. Her eyes met his…  
  
…and Kim gasped.  
  
She and Ron were standing at Graduation, both dressed in silken black robes and wearing those ridiculous mortarboards. They were surrounded on all sides by their fellow graduates, gathered on stage in an enormous auditorium in front of an equally enormous audience. The Dean of Students was at the podium at the forefront of the stage, droning on and on about the brilliant accomplishments of this year's class, but neither Kim nor Ron listened. They merely grinned at one another, reveling in their accomplishment. Ron reached out for her hand, and she gave his a little squeeze. They had done it: They had graduated college.  
  
There was a huge fight in a warehouse. Drakken and his henchmen were rushing about, trying to secure some device or another. Kim couldn't be sure. All she knew was that Shego was in front of her, hands glowing and face snarling. Suddenly, a kick from the side knocked her away, and Ron stood in her place. He smiled at Kim through a neatly-trimmed goatee, and gave her a wink which she felt herself returning before they went after the rest of Drakken's cronies.  
  
Kim was older now, dressed in a business suit and sitting on a park bench. She waited impatiently, her knees bouncing up and down in her pressed skirt as she scanned the paved path curving off to her right. She kept glancing at her watch, wondering what was keeping them. Suddenly, she saw a pile of messy blond hair break the crest of the hill. Ron's smiling face came into view, followed by another pair of faces down by his waist, framed with equally golden hair. The little ones' dancing green eyes lit up at the sight of Kim, who stood to greet the trio with a blossoming smile.  
  
They sat on a porch in a quiet, peaceful neighborhood, looking at a young couple walking past their house. The couple waved at them and shouted a brief greeting before walking on, hand in hand. Kim felt a leathery hand encircle her own, and looked over. There, with wisps of white hair that had once shone like the sun, her beloved looked at her with large brown eyes that held only love. He smiled a toothless grin at her, which she returned in kind, feeling her heart soar at his affections.  
  
Kim watched Ron's brown eyes stare at her impassively as they floated back down into the silo. She was speechless right up to the moment where unconsciousness finally claimed her. All she could think about was Ron's round, beautiful face, and the future it had held for her.  
  
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"Kim…Kim, wake up."  
  
Kim sat up from her metal bed, groggy and aching. She could feel footsteps pounding on the floor plating as she opened her eyes to see Monique's chocolate complexion examining her with open worry. "Wha'? Where am I?" she murmured, rubbing her aching head.  
  
Monique helped her to her feet amidst the chaos of the missile control center. There were military men and GJ agents everywhere, all armed to the teeth as they swept over Drakken's submersible facility. Gathered around Kim was a small group of onlookers, two of which nearly tackled her back to the floor upon seeing she was all right.  
  
"KIM!" her twin brothers wrapped her in a double-hug, squeezing her tightly.  
  
She laughed, hugging them back before pushing them off. "Hey tweebs. I hear you helped out. Nice work." Their eyes danced with excitement at her praise, but they tried to be nonchalant about it…and failed miserably.   
  
Glancing over, she was very surprised to see Doctor Director standing next to Will. The agent wore an abashed face as he mumbled a greeting to Kim, but the agent in charge welcomed Kim back to wakefulness with a slap on the shoulder. "Excellent work, Agent Possible! I think that has to go down as the gutsiest Doomsday diffusing I've ever seen."  
  
  
  
"Thank you, ma'am." Kim muttered, looking around. There wasn't a villain in sight, which worried her. "Where's?"  
  
  
  
"Drakken and his bunch have already been taken into custody…though we couldn't find Shego." That didn't surprise Kim in the least. She looked around as Doctor Director gestured behind her. There, Drakken was handcuffed and being escorted out by a pair of GJ agents. "Just getting Drakken out of here now."  
  
  
  
"Kim Possible!" Drakken howled, tugging against the agents' grip as they forced him out the door. "You think you're all that, but you'll never escape the power of LoVE!"  
  
  
  
The Director shook her head as Drakken was forced out the door. "That has to be the lamest supervillain team name I've ever heard."  
  
  
  
"Amen." Monique laughed. She threw an arm around Kim's shoulder, giving the girl a friendly punch to the ribs. "How about that? A whole mess of sidekicks, and Kim still manages to save the day on her own."  
  
  
  
Kim chuckled at this. "Not hardly. I'd be feeding the fish if it weren't for…" She looked around, suddenly realizing that there was one person missing. "Wait a minute. Where's Ron?"  
  
  
  
"Stoppable?" Doctor Director shrugged. "Haven't seen him. He wasn't here when we got here."  
  
  
  
Monique tried to calm Kim down as she hunted wildly with her eyes. "Don't worry, Kim. I'm sure he'll turn up. I mean, come on; we're in the middle of the ocean. Where's he gonna go?"  
  
  
  
Kim nodded, wanting with all her heart to believe Monique. But when the search parties didn't turn up any sign of Ron, and they had to leave the facility aboard a GJ hoverjet without him, she wasn't the least surprised.  
  
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	14. Welcome Home

=All-Purpose Thank-You=  
  
I'd like to thank everyone that wrote in and reviewed this story, giving me the encouragement I needed to see it through to its end. And to all of you that didn't write in, don't worry; I'm not mad. Thank you for reading it this far. I hope you've all enjoyed the story, through the good times and the bad. It's been a wild trip, and I hope to return to the Kim Possible universe soon. I've had a lot of fun, and I hope you have to. Be safe, be well, and keep reading, because the best is yet to come.  
  
Cyberwraith Thadius Nine  
  
Ghost of the Net  
  
and your Queen of Fanfiction  
  
=============================================================================  
  
Kim Possible  
  
The Power of Love  
  
by Cyberwraith9  
  
=============================================================================  
  
Kim Possible strolled along the sidewalk with slow, uncertain steps. It was dark already in Dreidleton. The late September air held a chill, causing Kim to tug tightly at her hooded sweatshirt. But the cold was the furthest thing from her mind.  
  
"Let me just say again how sorry I am," Doctor Director said from the Kimmunicator's tiny screen. Kim held it at arm's length, and gave the secret agent a wan smile as she continued, "I assure you; Agent Du will be severely reprimanded for his actions."  
  
"It's no big, really." Kim shrugged, stopping outside of a familiar building. There was only a single street light across the road lighting the area. Her shadow snaked up the side of the building as she gazed at the ominous apartment complex.  
  
The Director's expression softened. "Are you sure you don't want to come back? We'd get things right this time…for you 'and' Stoppable."  
  
Kim looked up further. A single window with a flickering light caught her attention, and she felt a new stab of anxiety pierce her heart. It took another intonation from the Director before she turned back to her conversation. "Doctor Director…thanks. Seriously. But I think I know where I belong now."  
  
"Well," Doctor Director sighed, "I suppose I can respect that. I hope we can call upon you if we're ever in a spot of trouble."  
  
"Count on it." Kim's smile became genuine.  
  
With a nod, Doctor Director added, "Feel free to live in the facility until you've found a new place to live. Good hunting, Ms. Possible." She gave the teen a salute, then winked off the screen.  
  
"Thanks," she said to the darkened street. Glancing up one last time at the window, she heaved a sigh, then opened the door. "I'm gonna need it."  
  
Each step seemed to last an eternity as she rose to the second floor. The sound of her footfalls against the thin, dingy carpet thudded in her ears, carrying her down the hallway and towards the looming, terrifying door. After what must have been years of walking, she stood in front of the knob. A lump lodged itself in her throat as she reached out. She swallowed the lump, swallowed her fears, and knocked upon the door.  
  
There was a moment of silence where Kim was forced to wonder if Ron would even open the door for her. She was about to turn away when the knob jiggled, then twisted with a click. The door swung open slowly, and for a moment Kim couldn't see anyone behind it. Then a wiggling blob on the inside knob caught her attention.  
  
"Kim!" Rufus squealed, jumping from the knob and clinging to her sweatshirt.   
  
Kim smiled and picked Rufus up, rubbing his head as she brought the rodent up to her face. "Hey Rufus," she smiled at her tiniest friend. She paused a moment in hesitation before asking, "Is he here?"  
  
Rufus nodded and pointed over toward the living room. Looking past the kitchen, Kim saw the back of Ron's head. He sat in front of the television, which was muted at the moment, and hadn't turned around at the sound of Kim's voice. She exchanged glances with Rufus, but the rodent could only shrug.  
  
Steeling herself, Kim stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind her. The click of the latch sounded like a gun cocking to her edgy ears, but she continued on. If Kim Possible could do anything, then she could certainly eat a little crow to save the best thing that ever happened to her. "Ron?" she walked further into the apartment, but stopped at the kitchen counter.  
  
Ron didn't move, or even acknowledge she was there.  
  
"Ron, I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, and I don't blame you. But I've got something to say to you, and you have to hear it." He didn't even twitch, so she drew a deep breath and began:  
  
"Ron, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, because you were right about everything, and I've been a terrible friend. I…I don't know if I can even apologize for everything I said and did, but I'll try."   
  
She felt hot, wet tears welling up in her eyes, and this time she did nothing to halt them, not because she wanted to use them against him, but because she knew she couldn't stop them anyway. "The things I said to you were just awful, Ron. I was totally out of line. You weren't the one being a bad friend; I was. I ignored you, I abused you, and…and I'm not so sure that it's just been this last week that I've been doing it. You've always been there for me, but I wasn't there for you. And I'm sorry."  
  
  
  
He didn't move a muscle.  
  
  
  
Her voice was starting to shake, so she hurried it along. "I'm not sure if I can ever win your friendship back, Ron," she said with trembling words, "But I will work for the rest of my life trying to earn another chance, because…because being your friend is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and the best thing I could ever be."  
  
  
  
Rufus climbed up onto the countertop, glancing between the two. He moaned as Ron continued to ignore them, and looked to Kim with large, sympathetic eyes, chittering sadly. "Ho, not good…" he sighed.  
  
  
  
Swallowing the lump, Kim said, "Ron, I quit Global Justice. You should know that they wanted you all along…Will lied to me. He lied to both of us. He…he's wearing a black eye, in case you wanted to know." A ghost of a smile graced her lips, but returned to the ether when Ron remained where he was. His show had returned, but the television was still muted.  
  
  
  
"I still plan on saving the world, and…I could use a good partner to watch my back," she added. "I can't think of anyone better than you." She shifted uncomfortably, waiting in silence for several moments, hoping that Ron would say something. "And…that's it. I…I'll do anything to earn your friendship again, Ron. Because I don't need to imagine life without you; I've lived it, and it sucks. I just…I hope you can forgive me one day."  
  
  
  
There were another few moments of uncomfortable silence before she decided it was enough. Rubbing the back of her neck, she muttered, "And that's it…yeah. So, I'll just leave now, but I'll…see you around."  
  
  
  
She turned away and started for the door. Her cheeks and collar were soaked with tears, but she did nothing to clear them. She wanted to feel every ounce of pain, because she knew she deserved a thousand times worse for what she had-  
  
  
  
"Hold on."  
  
  
  
Ron's guttural voice halted her in her tracks. She looked back, and felt her heart leap into her throat as he rose from the couch. His face was hard and cold, and cut deeper than any knife ever could as he approached her. But his eyes were the worst part; lifeless and cruel, they stared almost mockingly at her.  
  
  
  
His lips twisted as he spoke in low tones. "You think that's all it takes?" he asked, shuffling towards her. She felt like a statue, unable to move an inch. The horrified expression his words struck upon her shone with tears as he berated her. "You think you can just waltz in here with a lame little apology and a few crocodile tears, and everything will be all right?"  
  
  
  
"Ron, I…"  
  
  
  
"Shut up," Ron said. Her jaw snapped shut as he stopped right in front of her, looming over her, silhouetted by the television's light like an ominous dark god. "You really think that's all it would take to win my friendship? You really are stupid."  
  
  
  
Her lip quivered and her tears tripled at his cruelty. She gasped, still unable to move or think. All she could do was listen to his horrible words. "Ron…" she sobbed softly.  
  
  
  
Almost immediately, his features softened. He reached out, grasping her shoulders and squeezing them gently. "You honestly must be the stupidest person in the world," he informed her in no uncertain terms, "If you thought you ever really lost my friendship."  
  
  
  
Kim was at a loss for words as Ron drew her in, pressing her head to his chest in a crushing hug. He leaned over, wrapping his arms tightly around the small of her back and pressing his face into her neck as she did the same. The last of her control snapped, and she sobbed openly into his chest, feeling her tears soak right through his shirt. As she did, some small part of her noticed a wet feeling spreading across the side of her neck, but she didn't care.  
  
  
  
"God, Ron…" she sniffed, pulling away and wiping her smudged eyes with the back of her hand. Looking up, she saw Ron smiling down at her with sopping cheeks and gleaming eyes. Even through the intensity of the moment, she couldn't help but chuckle at his essential Ron-ness. "It…It can't be that easy. I mean, for God's sake, I slapped you!"  
  
  
  
His face grew serious in an instant. "Hey…that's right. That really hurt, too." Looking as somber as he ever did, Ron rubbed his hands together. "Well, we can even the score right now. Close your eyes."  
  
  
  
With another sniff, Kim closed her eyes. The stinging tears began to ebb as she braced herself for his open palm. 'You deserve this,' she told herself, even as she felt a tingle of fear and disbelief; she never thought Ron would ever hit her, not in a million years. Then again, a month ago she never would have thought herself capable of hitting Ron, either. She would take her medicine like a woman, and waited proudly for his slap.  
  
  
  
And waited…  
  
  
  
And waited…  
  
  
  
Growing curious, Kim cracked one eye open. As she did, she saw Ron's fist looming right in her face. His finger was drawn back, and as soon as she peeked, he let if fly with a powerful flick that landed right atop the bridge of her nose. "Ow!" she cried out, stepping back quickly and rubbing at her face. "Ron!"  
  
  
  
"Ha! Gotcha!" he laughed, standing with hands on hips and an infuriatingly smug smile.  
  
  
  
"Ron, seriously," Kim said, ignoring the pain in her nose. "How can it be that easy?"  
  
  
  
"Oh, it's not." he assured her. He grew serious again, this time for real. "I said I never stopped being your friend. That doesn't mean I'm not unbelievably angry at you."  
  
  
  
"Oh…"  
  
  
  
His smile quickly returned. "But that apology went a long way towards making things better. Plus, the black eye on Will doesn't hurt either, though you would've gotten more bonus points if you had let 'me' do it."  
  
  
  
They shared a brief laugh together before it died away, leaving them in uncomfortable silence. "So…" she murmured, looking up at him hopefully. "We're cool?"  
  
  
  
"We're getting there," Ron assured her. He reached out and took her hand, intertwining his fingers in hers. "Kim, I said some stuff too, and-"  
  
  
  
"Ron, it's okay, really-" she tried to stop him, but he held up a hand.  
  
  
  
"Really. This month has…well, it's just sucked, like you said. I never want to go through something like that again. I know I can be annoying sometimes-"  
  
  
  
"-just like I can be sort of self-absorbed?" she added with a little smile, which he returned.  
  
  
  
"-but plain and simple, you're the best thing that ever happened to me. And I don't want to lose you again. So we'll be cool. Okay?"  
  
  
  
She squeezed his hand, drawing it in close. "Deal." They shared another laugh, followed promptly by another uncomfortable silence as they stood there holding hands. Finally, they parted. Kim chuckled nervously, wiping her eyes clear again and brushing a stray lock of glorious red hair from her face. "Great. Now I just have to figure out how I'm gonna convince mom and dad to help me back to Middleton."  
  
  
  
Ron frowned. "You're living with your parents again?" he asked.  
  
  
  
She nodded glumly. "I cancelled my dorm contract, and now that I'm out of Global Justice, I can't live there. I'll just have to commute, like Jim and Tim do." She looked up hopefully, asking, "Think you could be persuaded to lend a hand?"  
  
  
  
A short, bemused laugh escaped his freckled face. "I'll help you move," he said, "But only because you're moving somewhere not nearly as far as Middleton."  
  
  
  
"What?" She scowled, confused. "What are you talking about?"  
  
  
  
Raising his arms in a gesture, Ron looked around the apartment. "It's not a lot, and I'm told we have a rat problem," he added, looking over at Rufus.  
  
  
  
"Hey!" Rufus barked, giving Ron a long, wet raspberry.  
  
  
  
"-but it's not a bad place to live, if you'd like."   
  
  
  
It was his turn to look expectantly at her, but he didn't receive any kind of answer for several minutes. Kim simply stared at him with a slackened jaw, which he reached out and carefully closed for her. "You can't be serious."  
  
  
  
"I got off the phone with your dad about half an hour ago," he said smugly. "The rent's been taken care of, and so has your half of the food and utilities. You're squared away for the next month or so."  
  
  
  
The anguish and anxiety Kim had felt when she first came to Ron's apartment vanished entirely. In its place arose a joy like she had never felt before. "Oh my God, Ron!" she leapt forward, snaring him in another hug that threatened to collapse his ribcage. "Thank you," she cried with tears of joy, "Thank you so much!" Without thinking twice, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, then buried her face into his shoulder.  
  
  
  
Ron turned beet red at the kiss. He was thankful Kim couldn't see his face as he reached up, stroking her hair as he cradled her in his arms. "Welcome home, Kim." he whispered.  
  
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"Yeah, everything's squared away." Kim sat on Ron's couch…'their' couch, a week after the reunion, talking into the cordless phone. Rufus sat at her elbow on the armrest, flipping through the channels as they prepared for their new Saturday tradition; movie night. Ron was in the kitchen, trying to get his ancient microwave to produce a decent bag of popcorn.  
  
Leaning back, Kim propped her feet up on the far end of the futon. "So you sure you don't want to come over, Mon? There's always room for one more." She smiled, listening to Monique's excuses with a secret joy. She wouldn't admit it, but it was nice having Ron all to herself once in a while, especially after all that had happened. "Okay, but just remember that the invite's always good. Okay. Okay. I'll talk to you later. Bye, Mon."  
  
"So she's not coming?" Ron asked as he circled around the couch with a large bowl of popcorn and a pair of blankets. It was October already, and the weather had taken a turn for the frosty. Uncle Don kept promising to get the pilot light up and running, but so far they didn't have any heat to speak of. Ron picked Kim's feet up and tossed them off of the futon, sitting down in their place and offering her the bowl.  
  
Kim shook her head, popping some of the snack into her mouth. As always, the master chef had proven his skill, even on something as simple as popcorn. "Nope," she said, savoring the buttery, salty taste. "Said she has some important studying to do. It's just us tonight."  
  
Ron quelled the urge to jump up and cheer. He loved Mon as much as Kim did, but he relished the chance to spend some quality time with the teen superhero. Rufus leapt up to pull a swan dive into their movie snack, but Ron's quick reflexes caught him just in time. To satisfy the rodent's enormous appetite, Ron produced a second bowl of popcorn, which his little pal gratefully dove into.  
  
"Say Ron," Kim said as he got up for the remote, "I've been meaning to ask you something."  
  
"Yeah KP?"  
  
Ignoring the little flutter of joy her heart felt when he called her by her nickname, she pressed ahead. "Back in the launch silo…What Shego said. Is it true?"  
  
Ron froze, and nearly dropped the remote. He glanced back at Kim, trying to discern what she was thinking, but her expression was unreadable. Swallowing nervously, his brain went into overdrive.  
  
'Yes,' he thought, staring into her deep, limpid pools of emerald radiance, 'It's all true. I've loved you for a long time now, and I never, ever, 'ever' want to lose you again in my life. You mean everything to me, KP, and I'd do anything for you…because I love you.'  
  
But of course, he couldn't say that. So he lied through his teeth.  
  
Well, it was more of a half-lie. Those are the most successful kinds, after all. "Of course it is, Kim. You know I love you."  
  
"That's not exactly what she said," Kim pointed out.  
  
Gritting his teeth a moment, Ron said, "Kim, I've known you since pre-K. We've been through everything together, and you mean the world to me. I'd trust you with my life, just like I hope you'd trust me with yours."  
  
She smiled at this. "I already have."  
  
He nodded. "So of course I love you, KP. Just like I know you love me. You're my best friend, and nothing can ever change that."  
  
She seemed satisfied at the answer, and allowed him to return to his seat without further questions. He took one of the blankets, and spread the wide blue material across his lap before offering the green one to Kim. With a knowing grin, she spread this one over him as well. Before he could ask what she was doing, she pulled the edge up and slipped beneath, sliding right next to him.  
  
His heart immediately went into overdrive. "Kim, what're you-"  
  
She shrugged, snuggling up to him. "It's really cold, and you make a pretty good space heater. You don't mind, do you?" He shook his head numbly as she offered him a brilliant smile. "Good." She drew closer still, and rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her waist and held her to him. As the movie began, her hand unconsciously rested on his stomach, and a tiny smile remained glued to her lips…  
  
…because Ron had never been able to lie to Kim.  
  
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The closing credits began to roll, much to Ron's disappointment. Without a doubt, it had been the best two hours of his life. Of course, the movie had been just awful, but he hadn't noticed it. He was too busy memorizing every single detail Kim's body offered him; the scent of her hair, the feeling of her hand, the warmth of her body. It was almost too much to bear, but it was even worse now that it was over.  
  
"Okay, KP," he sighed, leaning forward and turning the television off. "Fun's over. Time to-" He stopped, suddenly becoming aware of her slow, steady breathing. Looking down, he saw her face resting against his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, and a content look had come over her features.  
  
With a smile, Ron stood up carefully so as not to disturb her. He took her in his arms, carrying her like a knight would his princess. If Kim had been awake, she probably would have found it funny; she had never been the damsel in distress type. 'But that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve to be treated like a princess,' Ron thought to himself.  
  
He carried her into her bedroom and tucked her in, pulling the covers over her and adding a blanket to make sure she would stay warm for the night. "Goodnight, KP," he whispered, stroking the hair from her face as he gazed down upon her. "I love you."  
  
Hesitating only a moment, Ron leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the forehead, letting his lips linger a half-second too long. He pulled away quickly, grateful that she was asleep, and tiptoed toward the door with a curious smile on his face. As he left, he did not notice the pair of luminous green eyes staring at him warmly through the darkness.  
  
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=The End= 


End file.
